


Omnia Vincit Amor

by anastiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Season/Series 11, Bottom Castiel, Bottom Dean, Canon-Typical Violence, Castiel-centric, Dean/Cas Big Bang Challenge 2015, First Time, Fluff and Angst, Genderfluid Character, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, POV Multiple, Self Confidence Issues, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-05
Updated: 2015-10-05
Packaged: 2018-04-24 17:24:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 35,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4928542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anastiel/pseuds/anastiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the spell to remove the Mark of Cain releases The Darkness onto the Earth, Sam and Dean scramble to find a way to fix what they undid. Through Cas’s help - a talk with God, a few trips to heaven, and his incessant need to save the people he loves - a potential solution is found. Along the way, Dean and Cas finally find each other and Cas realizes what it truly means to be human and to have a home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thanks to [wingofcastiel](http://wingofcastiel.tumblr.com) for creating the beautiful [art](http://wingofcastiel.tumblr.com/post/130535786192/my-art-for-anastiels-dcbb-fic-omnia-vincit-amor) for my fic. It was a pleasure working with you!
> 
> Special thanks to [Nicole](http://deanmoans.tumblr.com/) for editing, and [Emily](http://whelvenwings.tumblr.com/) for the help with Latin. You guys are the best! Thanks also to [Julia](http://iloveyouawesomenerd.tumblr.com/) for reading this fic at its infancy and continuously encouraging me along the way. 
> 
> If you would like to listen to the [playlist](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL8fq_k6Oyu5FAw7qnDlOKxQTD1F-YUTxK), feel free to do so!
> 
> This fic was created with love for the eleventh season of Supernatural and seven years of Dean and Cas.

_Arise, shine, for your light has come, and the glory of the Lord rises upon you._

_See, darkness covers the earth and thick darkness is over the peoples, but the Lord rises upon_

_you and his glory appears over you._

_Isaiah 60: 1-2_

The news stations are calling it the second apocalypse and scientists are baffled. There’s no logical explanation for the gigantic black cloud that swallowed up the atmosphere and engulfed the Earth in a vibrating, electric black ball. So far it just sits there, hovering a couple thousand feet off the surface of the earth. Occasional lightning strikes scorch the ground, burning trees, houses and people in their wake. There are two hundred casualties so far from just the lightning strikes alone and there will be many more if something isn’t done. Experts say the longer the earth is blocked by the sun, the faster the temperature will drop and the faster everyone will die.

Outlook is pretty bleak for everyone and it doesn’t help that the strains of conservative Christians across America are hoarding around news crews and talking about the coming of the Antichrist and the rapture. They seem to think the black cloud will swallow them all up and take them up to heaven, leaving all the sinners and non-believers to be burnt into oblivion by the fiery flames of the dragon that goes by the name of Satan.

Needless to say, spreading panic within a disaster is never effective and after three days of listening to all the bullshit, all the crying coming from the scared children and families in the rooms next to theirs and the frantic helicopters swooping over the hotel Sam and Dean are staying in - Dean finally has enough.

He grabs the keys to the Impala, mumbles out a gruffed, “I’ll be back in a few days,” to Sam over his shoulder and leaves.

He has no destination in mind, only that he needs to find a way to fix this.

~~~

Dean drives and drives for hours, hoping that maybe if he drives far enough The Darkness will lessen and a breach of sun might peek through the soupy mess of clouds. Eventually he has to take a break, his foot keeps falling asleep and his phone is flashing obnoxiously at him. He pulls off to the side of the road, slowing the Impala to a park along the shoulder and reaches for his phone. Thirty missed calls: twenty from Sam and ten from Cas.

He figures that calling Cas is probably the best option right now since Sam is no doubt pissed at him for taking off like that. Not that Dean blames him, honestly, but they fucked up again. He killed death and Sam’s cure released The Darkness and if they don’t fix this, the entire earth will freeze in a manner of months. According to the “scientists” on the news they have six months, maybe if they’re lucky. He is happy that The Mark is gone and he’s back to himself again, but this time the cure was not worth the sacrifice, at least not to him. He would have rather been thrown into the sun.

Cas answers after the first ring, voice more frantic and worried than Dean has ever heard before.

“Dean, where are you? Are you alright?”

Dean rolls his eyes. “I’m fine, I guess. Mostly just trying to figure out how to stop the destruction of the earth, you know no big deal.”

“Where are you?” Cas repeats.

Dean looks around, searching for a road sign. Nope, nada, zilch. The Impala’s headlights illuminate a gigantic field of swishing, tall grasses off to his right - he’s in the plains, somewhere.

“Uhhhh, somewhere in the Midwest I think. I don’t really know. It’s too goddamn dark to see anything.”

Cas huffs into the phone and it sounds like a mixture of a laugh and frustration. “One moment.”

There’s a heavy sigh and some shuffling over the phone. “You’re in South Dakota.”

How the - Oh yeah, angel mojo, he has that again.

“Cool, any large cliffs nearby I can drive off of?”

“Dean, that’s not funny.”

“Sorry. How are you?”

Cas pauses and there’s silence over the phone. It’s then that Dean remembers. The dried blood on his knuckles, the broken look on Cas’s face, the anger zinging through his veins, and the reminder that he almost killed Cas.

_Next time, I won't miss._

“I’m alive,” Cas says. His voice sounds helplessly small for such a large and powerful being.

“I’m glad,” Dean says, then adds, “Thanks for helping cure me.”

“Of course.”

If Dean is being honest with himself, which is a rare occurrence, what he really wants is to talk. He just wants to talk to Cas, just wants to tell him how sorry he is for beating him up. He can’t say that over the phone, you don’t have conversations like that over the phone.

So instead he asks, “Where are you?”

“Columbus, Nebraska, about one hundred miles from the Bunker. I was coming to find you.”

“Oh. Can you meet me somewhere?”

“Anywhere.”

Dean smiles a little at that. Cas has always been too good for him, too forgiving and too willing to do anything he asks. It’s not something Dean ever wanted to take advantage of, though he knows he has. He’s always known that the affection (not love, he refuses to call it love) Cas has for him is something that Dean won’t ever be able to comprehend. Something of that caliber is seismic, devastating and capable of destruction and it’s something he simultaneously yearns for and is terrified of.

“Sioux Falls, it’s a mid-point between us.”

“That’s where Bobby used to live.”

“Yeah, I would meet you at his house, but it isn’t there anymore so just meet me at the city hall building in town and we’ll figure out where to go from there.”

“Deal. I’ll see you soon,” Cas says. The fondness in his voice doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Yeah see you soon, Cas.”

~~~

By the time Dean reaches Sioux Falls, Cas is already there. His golden car, still bright and just as atrocious looking as it’s always been even without the light. Cas is outside of the car leaning against the driver’s side door, waiting. Dean wonders how long he’s been standing there just waiting for him. It seems like Cas is always waiting for him.

He pulls up behind Cas’s car and gets out. There is a part of him that really wants to hug Cas, because he’s been meaning to for a long time, especially since everything that happened a week ago. He needs it and he knows Cas does too, but the more rational part of his brain holds him back.

_If you hug him now, you might not let go._

“Hey, you made it,” Dean says, choosing instead of a hug to clap Cas lightly on the shoulder. Friendly. Brotherly. Safe.

“The roads were relatively empty. I think people are afraid to go outside. They shouldn’t be The Darkness will not harm anyone, at least not yet.”

“What is it exactly?” Dean asks, leaning back against the car next to him.

“The oldest evil, it existed before God, before earth, before everything.”

“Okay, but what does it do? Why is it so evil?”

“It’s similar to a demon, just worse. The longer it remains on earth the stronger its power will become. The Darkness tempts, it pits people against one another and makes them relive their worst nightmares. It creates chaos; war. The effects on an earth already obsessed with war will be disastrous.”

“Sounds like a party,” Dean says. It sounds like something worse than hell honestly, and he’s pretty sure there is no way in hell even with the combined efforts of the him, Sam, Cas, and all the angels left in heaven that they have a chance to put this thing back under lock and key. “Is there any way of putting it back? You know locking it up?”

"Not unless God exists, which to my knowledge, he’s been gone for a long time.”

“Great.”

Cas turns to him, resting a gentle hand on his shoulder. His eyes are strong, intense and wow, Cas hasn’t looked at him like this in a long time. “Do not despair, Dean. We can still try to find a way to fix this. You and your brother have gotten the world out of these kinds of messes before; certainly this time will be no different.”

Dean darts his eyes to the ground, scuffing the side of his shoe along a sidewalk crack. “Yeah, well this time we released it, we fucked up. I know Sam just wanted me to get better, you did too, but all this?” He gestures at the thick, black clouds above, “Saving me is not worth the death of the human race.”

“What’s done is done. And for the record, regardless of the consequences, a world without you is a bleak one and not a world I have any desire to live in.”

It’s probably the closest thing to an “I love you,” Cas has ever said and Dean doesn’t know what to do with it. He nods, taking the words in, letting them rest inside that little empty notch in his heart until he feels a little bit more whole again.

“You wanna go for a drive?” He asks, nudging Cas’s shoulder with his and brandishing a little smirk.

“Where?”

“Anywhere, west, east I don’t care. Maybe we’ll find a break in The Darkness.”

Cas chuckles and it’s a weird sound, he’s laughed before but never in seriousness, never like this.

“I’m not entirely sure that break exists.”

“Let’s find out,” Dean says with a grin. He starts to walk away back to the Impala; obviously they are going to take the Impala. Cas’s car is fine but he’s not leaving Baby in the middle of Sioux Falls where anyone could just steal her. He’s not stupid. Plus, the Impala is prettier and isn’t painted that gross color of gold that makes Dean’s skin crawl.

Cas grabs a few things out of his car first – a small pocketbook, for money, ID’s, and his angel blade. He slides into the passenger seat, stuffing his wallet and keys into the pockets of his pants and lays the angel blade on the floor next to his feet. Dean moves to start the car when Cas’s hand reaches over and stops him.

“Call your brother first, he’s worried.”

Dean narrows his eyebrows, hand falling from the keys where they are stuck in the ignition. “Why can’t you call him?”

Cas glares at him, acting like Dean is a petulant child who is refusing to listen. Which, he kind of is. “He wants to talk to _you_ , Dean.”

 _Uh oh_ , here come the puppy dog eyes. Cas is almost better at them than Sam, quite a feat in Dean’s opinion since his little brother spent thirty-two years perfecting the art.

“Fine,” Dean concedes, when he just can’t stand to stare at Cas’s pleading eyes anymore.

He whips out his phone and dials, grumbling profanities under his breath.

“Dean?”

“Hey, Sammy.”

The moment Dean speaks and Sam can tell he’s at least alive; a thousand questions start flying out of his mouth. “Are you okay? Are you with Cas? Please at least tell me you’re not about to do something du-”

“Sam, shut up for a second okay? I’m fine, I promise. I’m alive and yes Cas is here, he’s sitting right next to me. We’re going to start looking for a way to lock this thing back up again, or fight it since that seems to be our only two options at the moment. Can you do something for me?”

Sam’s voice is quiet when he answers. “Of course.”

“Call everyone we know, tell ‘em to keep their eyes out for people going apeshit and killing since according to Cas that’s the first symptom of The Darkness starting to affect people. Tell ‘em to look up lore, look for everything and anything that has to do with thing and how we can kill it, fight it, lock it up, whatever."

“Done. Anything else?” Sam asks.

“I’ll be back in a few days, like I said. Stay safe, Sam, okay? Don’t go outside unless you have to. I don’t want this thing fucking you up. You and Cas are all I have and if we’re going to fight this, we’re fighting this together.”

“Okay. What about... what about us, are we good?” Dean senses the hesitation in his voice. Sam probably thinks Dean is pissed, which, yeah, okay sure he is, but at the same time he gets it. He would have done everything to save Sam too. He has in the past, so he can’t fault his brother for doing the same thing he would’ve done.

“Yeah, we’re good. I’ll call you in a couple days. Let me know if you find anything.”

“I will. Hang in there, Dean. We’ll figure this out.”

“You too, Sammy.”

Sam ends the call and Dean pulls the phone from his ear, staring at it for a few seconds. He hands it to Cas with a tiny smile.

“I needed to do that, thanks Cas.”

“You’re welcome.”

“So, east or west?”

“East.”

“Alright, we’ll just keep driving until we reach the sea or see a break in the sky, okay?” Dean says, looking over at Cas for approval of the plan.

“Yes, but when you get tired, I’m driving.”

Oh, _hell no._

“You think you’re going to drive _my_ car?”

“Dean.” There he goes again, more with the glare and those goddamn puppy dog eyes.

“Yeah, yeah okay, fine, if I get tired you can drive.”

Cas smiles a satisfied smile, resting back against the seat. He looks so comfortable and in place that it’s slightly disorienting. Dean starts the car, heading north on the main street until they connect to I-90 going east. He lets Cas pick the music, which if Sam had been in the car Dean would have heard an earful about, but Sam’s not in the car and Dean is curious as to what Cas likes to listen to when he drives. At first he settles on a classical station, not surprising, but after about an hour of Tchaikovsky and Beethoven, he changes the channel to some indie rock station.

The music is okay, the lyrics are really deep, really angsty and super romantic, which is really Cas-like Dean has to stop himself from laughing every single time one of the singers compares their love to an angel.  But despite the sickeningly lovey-dovey crap, the beat is good and Dean can dig some of the guitar solos if he had to.

Cas stays silent most of the ride, occasionally humming along to a few of the songs that he’s heard before. He’s got this permanent smirk on his face, and he looks happy. Considering the circumstances and the state of the world, Dean doesn’t understand how Cas can be happy unless the reason he is happy is because he’s with Dean. But that’s too much to think about and if he lingers on that revelation for too long, he might drive the car off the road into the ditch.

About one hundred miles from Chicago, Cas switches to cassette tapes, digging the box Dean has underneath the seat. He looks at every single one for approximately two minutes each until he finds one that satisfies him. He settles on AC/DC - Back in Black, probably for Dean’s benefit as a thank you for suffering through his own music for the past four hours. It’s just the tiniest gesture, but it means a lot that Cas knows which AC/DC album is Dean’s favorite without Dean having ever told him.

In Chicago they stop to eat, well Dean stops to eat since Cas doesn’t have to eat anymore. There’s little diner right off the highway, illuminated in bright red paint with golden flashing letters on the sign like something out of Las Vegas, “BILL’S BURGERS. THE CHEAPEST AND BEST BURGERS ON I-90.” That’s the biggest lie Dean has ever seen, every hunter knows that Harrington’s just outside of Spokane has the best burgers on I-90, but Dean is hungry so he doesn’t really give two shits.

They are seated at a booth almost right away and much to Dean’s annoyance, the waitress is overly friendly with Cas. This shouldn’t annoy him, especially with all the other shit going on, but she keeps smiling at him like he’s George Clooney and she’s an over-excited fan girl who wants to get into his pants, which she probably does. Cas, oblivious as ever, just looks up at her like the innocent flower he is and orders a coffee with two creams and one sugar. He may not have to eat anymore, but he always has to have coffee. Somehow, he still manages to be grumpy without coffee. Cas is intolerable if he doesn’t have coffee.

Dean gruffly orders a hamburger and a beer; he needs alcohol right now, craves it and nearly chugs half the bottle the moment it’s set down on the table. Cas watches him, sipping at his coffee, so calm and serene compared to him, the wild tornado, and that in and of itself is practically infuriating.

"Dean,” Cas states, softly, setting down his cup and fixing Dean with his ever penetrating stare. “You need to stop blaming yourself for everything.”

“You reading my mind again? Stop it,” Dean huffs, taking a large bite of hamburger to occupy his mouth instead of spouting off on how, but actually this is his fault, his and Sam’s and they are going to kill the entire human race. This is unforgivable.

“No, you know I stopped doing that after you asked me not to four years ago, however I know your facial expressions and that is your self-deprecating one,” Cas replies, almost sassily and Dean freezes, mouth half full of hamburger and shrugs.

“Huh.”

“It’s my least favorite one.”

“Yeah, well, what can I do, I feel shitty so I’m gonna look how I feel.”

Dean takes a swig of beer, finishing off the last few bites of his hamburger. Cas just keeps staring into his eyes, into his soul, digging for something and Dean isn’t sure what.

“You are so frustrating,” Cas states after a while, finally, fucking finally looking away and taking a small sip of his coffee, eyes narrowed, glaring into the cup like its presence personally offends him, yet he needs its caffeine to function.

“But that’s why you love me right?” Dean asks, waggling his eyebrows at Cas. Apparently his choice of words turns out to be poor, because Cas scowls at him and doesn’t reply just sits there, silently like a broody protagonist of an 1800’s romance novel.

Yes, correlating Cas with romance, what a _great_ idea Dean. Not.

The waitress walks over, placing the check on the table and Cas flashes her a little smile this time, pulling money out of his own pocket before Dean has a chance to argue.

He hands her a twenty, looking up at her with those wide blue eyes of his, probably making her go weak at the knees. Not that Dean would know of course. “Keep the change.”

Dean mentally tries to do the math and gapes at her retreating back – Cas left her a five dollar tip. Damn, he’s generous.

“You ready?” Cas asks, and Dean nods, finishing off the dregs of his beer, standing and waiting while Cas takes one last sip of coffee.

Dean gets into the driver’s seat, turning on a local radio station to listen to the news for once to see if anything horrific has happened in the past few hours.

“President Obama declared a state of emergency for the entire contiguous United States. The dark cloud hovering over the earth has dropped temperatures around the world by half a degree in the past twenty-four hours. Scientists are working to try and reverse this strange weather pattern. For now, please stay inside your homes unless you absolutely have to leave. Further information will be provided in the next hour. This has been a public service announcement.”

Static interrupts the stream and then the pre-recorded message restarts, most likely on a continuous loop until new info is found. Dean flicks off the radio and slips a Zeppelin tape into cassette player, turning up the volume just a few notches shy of blaring and leans back against the seat.

 ~~~

After a few minutes of silence, Dean shoots a look over at Cas. He’s staring out at the window again, a little scrunched up contemplating look on his face. Dean clears his throat loudly and purposefully, getting Cas to turn his head and meet his gaze.

“So, what happened after you completed the spell?” He asks.

With everything that’s happened in the past week, he hasn’t really had a chance to ask Cas what happened to Crowley and to Rowena. Cas just showed up out of nowhere, by himself and seemingly fine.

“Well,” Cas starts, he pauses, darting his eyes away from Dean’s. “I killed Crowley.”

Dean’s eyes widen and he shoots a few quick glances between Cas and the road. “You what?!”

“Rowena cast a spell on me, and it caused me to attack him. It only took one stab. By the time the spell wore off and my grace flushed it out of my system, I woke up near Crowley’s corpse and Rowena was long gone. I would have tried to find her again, but she was not my priority.”

Dean gulps, hands tightening around the steering wheel, “Jesus, Cas. You sure you’re alright?”

Cas nods solemnly, “I am completely fine, she doesn’t have a hold on me anymore.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Dean asks, softly.

“It wasn’t important,” Cas replies.

“That’s bullshit, of course it’s important,” Dean says, he pauses briefly five precious words lingering on his tongue and then continues, “You’re important to me, Cas.”

Cas smiles a little, lips tipping up at the corners. He doesn’t reply, only briefly lingers his gaze with Dean’s and then stares out the window again, that small smile permanently on his face.

Dean twists the knob on the dial, returning the music to a moderately high volume. The conversation is over, and that’s more than okay with him. They’ve fallen into a sort of comfortable silence, with everything, well most everything except for the unresolved emotional feelings thing out in the open. But all things considered, they’re better than they’ve been in a while and Dean is content and it’s clear from the gentle smile on Cas’ lips that he is too.


	2. Chapter 2

They’re about thirty miles out of Chicago, near Whiting, Indiana when Cas starts annoyingly nudging at Dean’s shoulder with his hand.

“Dean, pull over,” Cas orders, urgency in his voice. Dean pulls over, off to the side of the road along the shoulder. They’re bordering Lake Michigan, the highway curving around its shore.

"What? Why?” He frantically looks around for some kind of black cloud looming down over them, ready to stab through the Impala’s windows.

“Look!” Cas says, pointing towards the shore high up in the sky.

The blackness above Lake Michigan changes, lightening to a dark grey then an even lighter grey until a gap opens and sunlight streams in. Dean covers his face with his hands, eyes unadjusted to extreme brightness after four days of constant darkness.

“What the fuck?!”

“Get off the freeway, drive towards it.”

“Towards it?! Are you crazy? What if some like, oh I don’t know monster thing comes out of the sky!?”

“Dean, just drive.”

He does, trusting Cas to not be wrong about this, speeding back onto the highway and taking the next exit. He loops back around until they’re facing north and the lake. The gap keeps widening, letting more sunlight in by the minute. He can see clouds, fluffy and white and bright blue sky. He pulls into a beach side park off the side of the road, tires squealing as he whips into a parking spot. They both practically tumble out of the car before Dean has it stopped and Dean rushes onto the beach, sand flying in the wind with every step, Cas close behind him. He grabs Dean’s shoulder right before Dean steps into the water. He’d been watching the large circle in the sky so closely Dean didn’t even notice he’d reached the waves.

“What should we do?” Dean asks, falling back next to Cas and instinctively reaching out, fingers grappling for the sleeve of his trench coat.

“Watch and see if anything happens, what else can we do?” Cas says.

Cas is right, there isn’t much else they can do. They can’t stop the hole from opening, and maybe it should. If enough light enters the world, it might be able to permeate the darkness and wash it from the earth. Unlikely, but hey, they can hope right?

Cas tugs on Dean’s shoulder and takes a few steps back, sitting on a nearby log laying in the sand. Dean follows and plops down beside him, close enough so their shoulders brush anytime the other moves. They watch.

“Did this happen before?” Dean asks.

“Not according to the legends, but I remember the angels talking about The Darkness having a weakness, this might be it.”

The large circle of light in the sky widens until it is about the size of a football field, well at least that’s how big it looks from the ground. Dean feels like he’s in some sort of alien apocalyptic movie, that at any moment a large spaceship will crash through the hole and skid across the placid waters of Lake Michigan. Then a million tiny aliens will leave their craft and take him and Cas to Mars or something. This is a sort of apocalypse but there are no aliens. Dean never thought he’d have to witness the end of the world again, but here he is. And of all times, now isn’t the time for him to have a some heart-to-heart with Cas, he knows it’s not. It’s too cheesy, and if someone were writing a goddamn movie about them, this would be the pivotal moment where the protagonist (Dean) finally confesses his feelings for the love interest (Cas). This isn’t a movie though and Dean isn’t good with love, he always fucks it up. But he loves Cas, he does. Whether he tells him or not, that’s another thing entirely.

What he can do, however is repent for the things he’s done and try to find out where they stand, together. He feels like shit and Cas knows it and eventually, if he doesn’t talk about it, things will erupt in a way involving fists and yelling and he doesn’t want to reach that point again.

“I’m sorry, you know,” Dean says breaking the silence.

“For what?”

“I almost killed you, I could have killed you and you - you would’ve let me.”

Cas nods solemnly, clasping his hands in his lap. “Yes, I would have.”

“Why?” Dean asks, rotating his body toward Cas.

“You want the truth?”

They’re facing each other now, so close that Dean can see the flecks of grey and light blue in Cas’ eyes. He focuses on them and not on his face. He doesn’t want to hear this, he’s not sure if he will be able to hear this.

“Yeah.”

Cas doesn’t answer right away. He fidgets with his hands where they’re resting on his thighs. Dean is expecting him to look away, but he doesn’t. Eye contact and honesty have always been something entirely encompassing Cas and combined their strength has always made Dean catch his breath.

“I would rather die by your hands than live and see myself have to kill you. Or live and see you become something you are not.”

“Oh,” Dean mutters, glancing away. He watches the wind whip up a sand tornado and throw it across the beach where it lands in a dune, slowly increasing in size by the minute. “Why?”

Cas laughs a little at that, the sound leaving his lips and rising with the wind. “After all these years you still don’t get it do you?”

“Get what?” Dean asks, raising his eyes to Cas’s, eyebrows narrowing. His pulse thrums erratically against his neck, quickening with every passing second of silence.

“Despite all of your self-perceived flaws, you are the best man I have ever known and I ever will know. I love you with a force that I cannot explain nor will I ever be able to. If you don’t wish to reciprocate this, I understand, but that will still not change how I feel about you. I have died for you and I would again. I don’t think you get it Dean, there is nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”

Dean stops breathing, he tries to suck in a breath and nothing comes in so he ends up floundering for air like a fish out of water. This is too much, too fucking much to comprehend. Cas can’t just say shit like this casually as if he’s reading the newspaper and found a really interesting story he thinks Dean should hear. He tries to take a breath again and this time his lungs decide to cooperate and he takes a few breaths before replying.

Cas is patient, as always.

“I don’t know what to say.” He really doesn’t. He can’t even begin to say half of that back, not because it isn’t true, but because trying to explain to Cas what he means to Dean would be like trying to explain why the sun doesn’t rotate around the earth: impossible.

“You don’t need to say anything, I’m content to have you as a friend as we’ve always been, I don’t mind.”

Dean shakes his head viciously, “No, no that’s not what I mean, I just… shit Cas, I’m no good at this stuff.”

Cas’ lips twitch a little. “I know, take your time.”

Dean nods slowly, nervously biting at his lip. This one of the hardest things he’s ever done.

“Maybe it was Purgatory, maybe it was later, I don’t know but sometime in the past eight years you’ve not only become my best friend, but someone much more than that. I can’t... I…” Dean pauses, scrubbing his hand over his face and staring up at the opening in The Darkness, searching for the words like they will appear out of the sky.

“I don’t do relationships; I’m no good at them. I’ve always been the “love ‘em and leave ‘em” kind of guy and somehow I always fuck up and ruin whatever good thing I’ve got going. And honestly I’ve never needed or really wanted someone in the way I want you, it’s different, it’s so much more and it scares me to death and I’m rambling, sorry.”

Dean stops talking, blushing from head to toe, head drooping, and eyes fixated on the sand around his feet. When he finally gains the courage to look up and meet Cas’ eyes, he is afraid his heart might burst out of his chest. Cas is looking at him so openly, so accepting and he’s smiling, wider than Dean has seen in a long time, years.

“So what do you want?” Cas says, asking the question Dean has been asking himself for the past five minutes.

Dean is staring at Cas, heart thudding within his chest and all he wants right now to reach over, pull Cas against him and kiss him until he makes his angel forget how to breathe.

“You.”

Their shoulders are pressed close together, arms resting side by side. It’s a small movement when Cas reaches over and slides his fingers in between Dean’s.

“You have me,” Cas answers, squeezing Dean’s hand, smile expanding into a grin.

Dean chuckles, smiling at Cas’ odd choice of words, “You sound like I just proposed to you or something.”

Cas shakes his head, laughing, eyes glinting. “Maybe after the apocalypse,” he teases.

“Yeah, maybe.”

It’s one of those monumental moments, a once in a lifetime occurrence, he should make the most of it. If he were smart and of the spontaneous sort, he would lean over and press his lips against Cas’, finally, for the first time. But he doesn’t and not because he doesn’t want to. He does wanna kiss Cas, more than anything right now, now would be perfect, except the only problem is right now _isn’t_ the perfect time. The weight of the world looms around him, a dark black cloud hovering over everything, _literally_ , it’s literally a fucking cloud and neither of them have the time to deal with emotional crap. So no, Dean doesn’t move to kiss him, like he wants to, he doesn’t even twitch his fingers. He just sits there, in silence, Cas’ warm hand wrapped up in his and stares up at the breach in the darkness.

Cas moves when Dean doesn’t, head falling into the crook of Dean’s shoulder. It’s weird, strange yet so right and a smile somehow finds its way onto Dean’s face. He squeezes Cas’ hand gently, just a silent sign of everything he wants.

He wishes they had time; they never have enough time.

“So what do you think this means?” Dean asks, breaking the silence when after twenty minutes the large hole up in the sky doesn’t increase past the size of two football fields.

“What?” Cas says, lifting his head from Dean’s shoulder and looking over at him.

“The hole thingy, do you think it’s good or bad?”

“I think it might be The Darkness' weakness, which gives us a slight advantage, but I really don’t. When everything happened the first time I was too young at the time to fight with all the angels, only a fledgling, but I watched from heaven. I never saw how it began, only how the fight ended.”

“How did it end?”

Cas tears his eyes away from Dean’s, settling on the choppy grey waves crashing against the shore. “With death, we lost thousands of angels that day.”

“Shit,” Dean mutters. If thousands of angels died, what the fuck does that mean for the entire human race? Back then humans didn’t exist; the causalities were lower, but now? Seven billion people could die and it’s all his and Sam’s fault. Dean releases Cas’ hand and rises to his feet, anxiously starting to pace around in the sand, boots leaving deep footprints as he stomps back and forth in front of the log.

Cas follows him, grabbing onto Dean’s shoulder and stopping him in his tracks. The wind picks up the sand at Dean’s feet and sends a rush of it flying around them. Dean blinks the particles out of his eyes and stares at Cas.

“Dean, stop.”

“Stop what?”

Cas sighs heavily and his grip on Dean’s shoulder lessens. “I know what you’re thinking, and you need to stop.”

“I can’t help it.”

“No, it’s in your nature, I understand that, but Dean this will fuck you up if you don’t stop focusing on your mistakes and instead focus on how to fix them.”

Dean gapes a little at Cas saying “fuck” because he’s never actually said that cuss word before. Also, Dean hates how sexy it sounds when Cas says it. Not the time, Dean not the time.

“Yeah and with all the angels not at full power since the fall, how the fuck are we going to beat this, huh?”

Cas falters a little then, hand dropping from Dean’s shoulder and taking a step back. “With our combined power, you and your brother and the help of other hunters, we should have a chance.”

“What about God, don’t we need God?”

“Yes, ideally, I don’t believe without God locking away The Darkness is possible. But who knows, we may find another way. You and Sam have a habit of avoiding the inevitable; this instance will likely not be the exception.”

Dean laughs a little, Cas is right, regardless of the circumstances; they always seem to come out okay at the end of things.

“You’ve always had too much faith in me,” Dean remarks, lips twitching in amusement at how true that statement is.

“I am an angel; devotion is a part of my essence.”

The wind whips through the air, ruffling Cas’ hair and sending it flying every which way. His trench coat flaps in the wind around his feet and Dean has a flashback to the first time they met. Cas may not be as strong as he once was, that terrifying force that entered the barn in Illinois eight years ago, but he still has a bit of that otherworldly spark in him that sometimes flashes in his eyes and it never fails to send a chill down Dean’s spine.

He’s terrified of how a being like Cas could love someone like him as much as he does.

It’s an impossible idea, and sometimes if Dean thinks about this whole thing between him and Cas for too long, the gravity of it all finally hits him and almost sends him falling to his knees.

“A fatal flaw,” Dean replies after a moment.

“Sadly, yes,” Cas answers, the hint of smile on his face. He’s probably thinking of the past four times he has died for Dean and the Winchesters’ cause.

“Hey Cas?” Dean says after a minute, reaching out and this time, finding his own courage to take Cas’ hand.

“Yes?” Cas raises his eyes to Dean, blue sparkling in the reflection of the sun.

“So, what does this mean for us?” Dean asks, holding up their conjoined hands a little and gesturing with his free hand between them.

“Whatever you’d like it to mean. It doesn’t have to mean anything, if you don’t want it to. I know you tend to prefer to have your affairs go unattached.”

Dean shakes his head before Cas is even done speaking. “No, no, that’s not gonna be possible. I’m too far gone to want just sex with you, this isn’t about that. Even if it was, that wouldn’t be fair to you. Plus, what if one of us ends up dying and we don’t actually get any time together that would fucking suck and then –“

“Dean,” Cas states, squeezing Dean’s hand and cutting off his sentence.

“What?”

“Sometimes, you talk too much.”

Dean sighs, starting to explain. “Well, this isn’t just something we can just jump into, you know? I mean –“

“Dean,” Cas groans, rolling his eyes.

“What?”

“Can I kiss you”?

The question takes him by surprise.

“Okay,” He replies with no hesitation, taking a step towards Cas eagerly.

Cas moves fluidly, taking a few steps closer until he’s barely an inch away from Dean. His eyes meet Dean’s as they have so many times before, but this time Dean forgets how to breathe. How is it possible his eyes are even bluer close up? Cas reaches up with his free hand, gentle fingers sliding along Dean’s cheek, essentially caressing his face. Dean’s never been touched like this; he doesn’t know how to react, other than close his eyes so he doesn’t freak the fuck out and lean into the warmth. His lips part instinctively, waiting, and when Cas finally, fucking finally presses his lips softly against Dean’s a gasp leaves his throat and he clings to the lapels of Cas’ coat for dear life.  

The kiss isn’t even that long and it’s definitely the most innocent and shy kiss Dean has ever received, yet it’s honestly the only kiss he’s ever received that’s made him weak in the knees. He’s waited years for this, he’s wanted Cas for years and the fact that finally after all the hell they’ve gone through he gets to have him? It’s a goddamn miracle.

Dean is more than ready to keep this going, hell with how good he’s feeling right now they might end up fucking in the goddamn sand if Cas is down for that. Though they are standing in the middle of a beach, in public and Dean saw children a couple hundred feet away earlier so that’s probably not the smartest option. All his thoughts of Cas and sex and what it would feel like to finally be able to see what the angel has going on under that gigantic coat of his, suddenly vanish when Cas’ lips slide away from Dean’s and he rises up slightly on his toes to press a chaste kiss against Dean’s forehead. Dean’s breath catches in his throat at the gentleness of the gesture and he stares wide-eyed at Cas, fingers shaking in their hold on Cas’ jacket.

“Cas,” Dean breathes, brain slowly coming back to life after momentarily short-circuiting. He stands there, staring into the blue abyss that is Castiel’s eyes, clenching and unclenching his fingers around the fabric. Without hesitation, he leans in and kisses Cas again because he can now and he’s going to make sure he does, a lot. Cas melts against him, fingers sliding down from Dean’s cheek down the line of his neck and settling on his shoulder. When Dean pulls away, Cas whimpers a little and chases Dean’s lips. Dean grins, dropping his grip on Cas’ coat and finding his hand where it’s hidden underneath the sleeve of the trench coat.

Cas is smiling, one of his rare bright smiles that in the dim light shines brighter than the sun. Dean worries if he stares too long at his light, he’ll go blind.

“You’re a very good kisser, Dean,” he says, giving Dean’s hand a squeeze.

Dean snorts. “Well, I have had some practice.”

Cas nods, grinning and for the first time in all the years Dean has known him, Cas blushes. Dean wants to know more than anything what is going on through that head of his that caused his cheeks to turn that gorgeous shade of crimson. He’s gonna have to find ways to make Cas blush more often.

They both fall silent, hands trapped within each other’s. Cas briefly raises his eyes to the sky, analyzing the large gaping hole. It’s still the same size, but now the edges are more jagged, ridged with lighter grey clouds and a low roll of thunder rattles Dean’s chest.

“We should get back to the car,” Dean says, warily eyeing the dark spot above them which has now started crackling with thunder. He tugs on Cas’ hand and they run back to the car. It starts pouring halfway there and Dean frantically, to no avail, tries to shield himself from the rain using his free hand. They both jump into the car, slamming the doors shut and Dean tries to ignore the chill from a droplet of water sliding down his back.

Thousands of drops splatter against the windshield, blocking their view of the hole and of the world. Next to him, Cas shrugs out of his jacket, tossing the discarded soggy coat over his shoulder where it lands with a thump on the back seat. Dean tugs off his jacket and rolls it up in a wet mess, glaring at the water droplets that escape their confine and trickle onto the console. He settles into the seat and looks over at Cas. He’s staring blankly out the window, a few water droplets roll down his cheek, falling from his damp hair and landing on his white starched shirt, leaving darkened prints.

The air is stifling between them now, it holds promise of things to come, things they don’t have time for yet and things still unsaid. Dean moves to start the car, but falters, fingers fluttering around the key, brushing the cool surface and dropping back to his thigh. It’s quiet here, calm and comforting and for once he doesn’t want to run from it. Enclosed in the one place he calls home, currently nothing but a wall of blurred vision from the outside world, he gathers the newfound confidence blooming inside his chest and rotates in his seat, reaching over and resting his hand on Cas’ thigh. Cas turns his eyes away from the window, fixing them curiously on Dean’s and leaning toward him. They’re a breath apart, one easy motion and Dean will be kissing Cas again, for the third time in the past five minutes. He likes the anticipation, the heat of their mingled breaths before impact so he waits. Cas’ breath stutters, he bites his lower lip and that does it. Dean surges forward, capturing Cas’ lips with his, not chastely this time. He has a new goal of making an angel forget how to breathe. His hand tangles in the damp hair at the nape of Cas’ neck and he presses closer, urging Cas’ mouth open with his tongue. Cas gasps into his mouth, hand gripping Dean’s shoulder, right at that spot where his handprint used to be. Dean misses the handprint, at first it made him feel uncomfortable, owned in some way he’d never wanted to be. Now, he wishes it were still there, then everyone would know who he belongs to: the angel who continuously pulls him from the depths of hell.

Dean’s hand tightens in Cas’ hair and he curses the console for being in the way of being able to get as close to Cas as he wants to be. He contemplates climbing over and into Cas’ lap, but he’s not sure that there is enough room in the front seat to contain them both if things start escalating. It’s okay though, there’s no need to rush; he’ll let everything happen in its own time. Dean drags his lips away from Cas’ and trails a line of wet kisses down his neck, loving every single falter of breath or whispered Dean he draws from Cas’ mouth. He could do this all day; he wants to do this all day.

Dean has never been one for sacraments, but kissing Cas feels like he’s partaking in one. It’s the first time he’s ever felt holy.

He pulls away when he runs out of breath, his lips brushing against Cas’ as he takes in a few deep breaths to satisfy his needy lungs.

“Where to?” Cas whispers. He’s still close, mouth only a few inches away, and the sound leaving his lips vibrates against Dean’s tickling his skin.

“East, maybe we can find something else important.” Dean pulls back a few more inches, eyes roaming over Cas’ face, his reddened lips and ruffled hair. He did that, holy shit.

“Then what?” Cas asks. The rain is slowing now, coming down in thin sheets of tiny droplets and scattering like ants across the windshield.

“When we get to the ocean, we call Sam.”

Cas nods his agreement, and reluctantly, they separate. Dean’s hand moves from Cas’ thigh, finding the key in the ignition and bringing the Impala back to life. He shifts her into drive and heads back onto the highway, leaving the opening in The Darkness behind him. The light leaves like the rain does, instantaneously returning the earth back to its natural state for the past five days: a never ending sea of eternal black and glowing headlights illuminating the dashed lines running down the middle of the road.

Dean turns the music on softly, background noise, and settles back against the seat for the long drive. After a few minutes of driving, he almost jumps out of his seat, when Cas’ fingers slide across the palm for his hand where it’s resting on the seat. The pads of his fingers stroke along the lines on the inside of Dean’s palm before sliding in between his fingers and fitting their hands together. They don’t talk about it, Dean just lets it happen.

The road stretches on for miles and darkness covers every inch of the earth, slowly gasping and choking life from humanity’s existence, but for once, in the midst of adversary, Dean Winchester isn’t hung up on all of his mistakes. For once, he’s okay, he’s comfortable and on the brink of a kind of happiness he has no idea how to deal with.

~~~

When Dean gets tired from driving ten hours later and refuses to switch places with Cas no matter how many times Cas offers, he pulls off to the side of the road near Lancaster, Pennsylvania to find a hotel. The only place somewhat acceptable looking is a grossly charming looking B & B that even in the dark, Dean can tell has bright blue paint, white shutters and looks like something out of a Hallmark Special. Utterly floofy, and not the kind of place he would’ve chosen especially for one night, but right now he’s so tired all he cares about is sleeping in a somewhat soft bed and hopefully, falling asleep with Cas.

They’ve yet to talk about that yet, though Dean’s not sure they are going to have to. When they get to the desk and ask for a room, Cas takes over, strangely and asks for one bed, only. The owner, an elderly woman with peppered grey and white hair, gives him a little smile, as she finds their keys. Dean suppresses the urge to roll his eyes at her happiness that they are _clearly_ a couple, clearly together. Couple? Dating? He doesn’t really know what to define their new relationship status at this point. Couple sounds too formal, more like partners in crime or something who happen to really like kissing and maybe cuddling, not that Dean will ever admit to that.

Cas takes the key from the lady, smiling politely at her and grabbing Dean’s duffel, throwing it over his shoulder. Dean gives her a curt nod, following behind Cas and definitely not looking back.

Their room is on the second floor with a glorious view of the garden, why that is a selling point especially with the constant no light situation, Dean will never understand. It’s small, very simple and white. Really white, so white that everything including the lacy comforter that covers the bed to the wicker chair in the corner of the room. The walls are the only thing that isn’t white; it’s a lighter color of Cas’ eyes that just so happens to go wonderfully with the rest of the room.

It’s fresh and Dean feels like he’s way too dirty to even be setting foot in here. Cas rests Dean’s duffel on the edge of the bed, sitting down next to it and slowly starting to pull off his shoes, and tie. Dean just stares at him, watching him undress. Not weirdly, just in fascination because he’s never actually seen Cas get comfortable or even take off his clothes.

Cas catches him staring and freezes, fingers trapped underneath the knot of his tie. “What?”

Dean shakes his head, waking himself up from his rapt stupor and pads towards the bathroom. “Nothing, I’m gonna shower. I’ll be out in a few.”

He takes a quick shower, not lingering in the warmth, even though he wants to. His body wants sleep more than he wants to be clean and Cas is in there and he wants to get back to him.

Dean realizes the instant he steps out of the shower that he forgot a change of clothes and has to suffer through walking out of the bathroom with just a towel around his waist. He pauses at the door, face already anticipating the antagonizing stare Cas will fix him with and what he knows that will do to him. He steps out into dimmer light; Cas turned off the overheard lights and flicked on the bedside lamp, dousing the room in a soft glow. He’s lying on his side, turned away from the bathroom, shirtless and in only his boxers, which that in and of itself makes Dean freeze.

He stands there, towel around his waist and stares at the contours of Cas’ back, watching how the muscles in his back tighten and release whenever Cas moves slightly. He’s beautiful, really fucking beautiful and that’s the only way Dean can describe him.

Logically, Dean knows that this isn’t really Cas’ body, even though it’s more his now than ever, what with Jimmy all the way dead and gone. Dean’s grown so used to him in this form that if one day, Cas decided to up and find a new vessel, Dean wouldn’t know what to think. This is Cas to him, blue eyes, messy hair, deep voice crackling with static energy and apparently a muscular body that Dean can’t wait to get his hands on.

Dean walks over to his bag where it’s resting on one side of the bed, a few feet away from Cas’ feets and starts sifting through his belongings. Once he finds a pair of boxers, he drops his towel and climbs into them. He contemplates wearing a shirt, but when he glances up again from his bag, Cas is rotated towards him, staring unabashedly at him. Cas’ eyes spark with fire, and the heat lights up Dean’s face, he glances away, bashful and tosses his bag onto the floor.

He slips under the covers across from Cas, purposefully staying on his side of the bed. It’s not that he doesn’t want to touch Cas, he does, obviously, but he’s too afraid to ask. Plus, this all just happened, maybe Cas doesn’t want to go too far yet. Dean turns over, his back to Cas and adjusts his position until he feels comfortable. The bed is softer than he’s used to almost like a white, fluffy cloud. He definitely could get used to this. The bed dips a little as Cas moves and with bated breath Dean waits, hoping and waiting for the physical contact he so desperately wants. Cas’ fingertips brush against his bare shoulder, hesitant and gentle and Dean sucks in a breath.

“Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I hold you?” Cas asks, softly. It’s such a simple request, something Dean wants more than anything, especially right now. And again, he’s surprised at Cas’ ability to understand what he wants without even saying a word. Sometimes he wonders how Cas manages to know him so well without looking into his mind, it’s incredible.

“Of course,” Dean says like it’s the most natural thing in the world. He hopes Cas understands this isn’t just a one-time permission thing that he has to keep asking for. Cas can hold him anytime he wants now, Dean wouldn’t mind.

Cas fingers tighten around the curve of Dean’s shoulder, pressing into his skin and Dean feels him scoot closer until Cas’ thigh brushes against the back of his own. Cas pauses, most likely giving Dean the time to push him away if he’s not ready for this, but Dean stays still, leans back into Cas’ touch to let him know this is okay. He breathes a sigh of relief when Cas’ left hand slides around his waist, fingers tracing invisible lines along his skin. Without looking he knows Cas has that contemplating look on his face as he slowly, with the pads of his fingers, explores Dean’s body. Cas tangles his legs between Dean’s and with a gentle tug, pulls Dean back against his chest. His breath dances at the nape of Dean’s neck when he asks, “Is this alright?”

Dean nods, breathlessly, surprised at himself for being able to be still this long and not freak out yet. Sleep is slowly creeping up on him now that he is trapped within Cas’ warm embrace, he wants to crawl closer and bury himself inside the warmth until he is no longer a part of the outside world. Cas presses a soft kiss at the back of his neck and snuggles closer to Dean’s back, his arms tightening around Dean’s waist.

“Good night, Dean,” He whispers. His arm leaves Dean’s waist briefly, leaving a cold air rushing over his skin, to douse the lamp on the nightstand. Instantly, Dean misses his warmth and he chastises himself for already being so needy. What the hell is wrong with him?

“G’night Cas,” Dean answers, releasing a happy sigh from his chest when Cas’ arm returns to its rightful place around his waist and his breath puffs warm and comforting across Dean’s neck.

It’s raining again, sheeting against the glass of the windows, pounding rhythmically in a soothing pattern that has Dean knocked out in a matter of five minutes.

~~~

In the morning, Dean doesn’t rise with the sun, since the sun doesn’t exist right now, instead the set alarm awakens him and the first thing he sees is a smiling Castiel with adorable bedhead. In Dean’s opinion, it’s a pretty damn nice way to wake up. After a few lazy morning kisses shared in bed, they get a quick breakfast at a local diner, then head out towards the ocean. There isn’t much of a drive to the edge of the Unites States, only a couple of hours, four at the most if there is traffic. While Dean drives Cas keeps his eyes peeled on the sky, watching for any signs of… well anything unusual, specifically more large gaping holes that could potentially mean death and destruction or a way out. They really don’t have much to go on at this point, but any chance that there is a break in The Darkness means something different, it means hope.

Dean drives until he parks the Impala in a beach-side parking lot a mile outside of a small coastal town in New Jersey.

“So what now?” Dean asks. He can barely make out the white caps rolling around on the dark water from the light lined boardwalk. It’s weird being at the ocean in the dark. There are even people out on the beach; their silhouettes dancing in the dim glow.

“Drive back?” Cas suggests, looking over at Dean.

The streetlight above them sends a ray of golden sparks twinkling in Cas’ eyes and Dean can’t stop looking at him, again.

He fights the urge to not look away, but he does anyway, shrugging. “I don’t know, I guess. There’s not much else we can do except go back and help Sam try to figure out a way and fix this goddamn cloud.”

“We could stay the night,” Cas offers, lightly. It’s a strange request, especially since Dean has only driven three and a half hours and normally he would want more than anything to get back and start working to fix this. He does, of course as always, the guilt still hanging heavy on his shoulders, especially now when there is a time limit to how long Earth can survive like this.

But for some reason, right now, he feels like being selfish. He wants to take this night, this one day just for him and Cas and be alone together for the first time in well, ever.

“Yeah, that would be nice,” Dean answers, smiling a little. “But before we make any decisions, I’m going to call Sam first.”

“Good idea.”

Dean digs his phone out of his pocket, turning off the Impala and dialing Sam’s number. It rings twice before Sam picks up, sounding tired and more stressed than Dean has heard him in a long time.

“Hey, Dean.”

“How’s it going?”

Sam huffs into the mouth piece and it sends a stream of static into Dean’s ear, “Shitty. I’m making progress, but slowly.”

“Whatcha got so far?”

Sam sighs, pages flipping. He’s probably sitting at the main table in the bunker, feet propped up and a book on his lap with a stack full of notes in his lap. “Grace, you can fight the darkness with grace. That’s what God did, at least according to some of the angels I’ve talked to.”

“You’ve been summoning angels?!”

“Uh, yeah? What other choice did I have? This stuff isn’t going to be in any book we’ve got, I had to go to the source.”

“Jesus, Sam that’s dangerous.”

“I know, but there was nothing else I could do.”

There’s a pause over the line and the silence lingers with a sense of dread. When Dean can’t stand it any longer he clears his throat and keeps probing for information.

“So, grace, that means you can fight this with supernatural force. Anything other than grace work?”

“Don’t know yet. A few of the other hunters I’ve been talking to have suggested magic, I’m not sure though. Humans didn’t exist back then when this happened the first time, so even with research I don’t think there is a way to find out.”

“Huh, I guess we could always try, right? Not that I’m really excited about dipping into witchcraft, but if that’s what we gotta do, we’ll do it.”

“Yeah, you guys find anything?” Sam asks. There’s an overly hopeful tone in his voice. Dean still feels bad for leaving so suddenly and giving Sam all the dirty work, it wasn’t fair but he needed to get away for a while. It’s helped and now he feels ready to get this shit done and kick this motherfucker in the ass with his brother and his angel boyfriend (boyfriend? partner?) at his side.

“Yeah, a huge fucking hole right above Lake Michigan.”

“A what?!”

“Yeah I know, sounds batshit, but I swear to you, Sam, there is a hole in the sky letting sunlight in. Cas doesn’t know what it is but he thinks it might be a weak spot or something.”

Dean hears shuffling over the phone and rapid typing on a laptop. “Seriously? Holy crap, this is awesome. If we gather all the angels and God and somehow convince all humanity to like evacuate the area, we could totally have a shot at this. I’m gonna need to get a hold of Randy-“

“Sam.”

“Hmm, what?”

“We’re in New Jersey, we’ll be back at the bunker in a few days. Remember what I said, don’t go outside. It doesn’t seem like this stuff is affecting people yet, but it will.”

“I know I know, I went out and got enough groceries for the next two weeks yesterday, I’ll be fine, Dean.”

Dean sighs and looks over at Cas who is nodding, pointing at the phone and waving at him.

“Cas says hey.”

Sam chuckles and Dean can hear him grinning over the phone. “Tell him I said hey back.”

“So you gonna do research until we get back?”

“Research, like what I’ve been doing for the past few days.”

“One day Sam, you will get sick of looking through books,” Dean says, hoping Sam can hear his smile through the phone.

“I don’t know, I might. I’ve had to take a few breaks so my eyes don’t bleed out of my head.”

“That’s okay, that’s good. Don’t work too hard okay, Sammy? You gotta get at least five hours of sleep and three square meals a day.”

“Yeah, yeah I know. Thanks Dean. See you soon, kay?”

“Yeah, see you soon.”

Dean ends the call and stuffs his phone back into his pocket.

“So you wanna find a hotel and then we can, I don’t know, go to the beach or something?” Dean asks.

“Yes, I’ll look for an inexpensive and fairly good quality one.”

“Money doesn’t matter, not today. It’s the end of the world Cas, choose whatever hotel you want.”

“Okay,” Cas replies with a little smile. He takes his phone out of his coat pocket and opens the internet app. It’s still weird to see Cas using technology like he’s old hat at this whole being human thing.

“I found one two miles away. If you drive back along the road we came in on and then turn right onto Swallowtail Drive, it’s right down the street and has a view of the ocean.”

“Awesome.”

~~~

Dean almost groans in protest when they pull up to the hotel Cas has chosen. It turns out not to be a hotel at all, but another Bed and Breakfast. Like a flashback to the early 1900’s the structure stands at three stories tall with white wooden shutters and some godawful pink paint that is almost fluorescent in the light of the antique looking streetlamps dotted down the sidewalk. There’s a sign near the front door with the name of the place scrawled across it in swooshy cursive letters: _Sandy Lee Bed & Breakfast._

“Why this one?” Dean asks, instead of bitching which is what he really wants to do.

“I saw the pictures online and it looked cute.”

“Oh it’s cute alright, _real cute_.”

“We can go somewhere else if you’d like,” Cas offers, reaching across the seat tangling his fingers with Dean’s.

Dean looks over at Cas, noting his hesitant happy smile as he stares up at this seemingly unimportant place. Over the years Dean has been to thousands of motels, they mean nothing to him anymore, but obviously this means something to Cas. And if he wants to stay here Dean can get over himself and his prejudices against fluffy, pink things and make Cas happy. Dean matches Cas’ gaze, staring up at the building that reminds him of the thousands of haunted houses he and Sam have dealt with over the years. It is kind of cute though, in its own vintage way; maybe this won’t be too bad.

“Nah, this is fine. C’mon let’s go check-in.”

Dean lugs his duffel bag out of the back and climbs up the twenty steps to the front door.

“One room, please,” Dean says, grinning at the young woman behind the counter and slapping a credit card down onto the countertop.

“One or two beds?” She asks, plaster perfect smile on her face.

“One,” Dean replies, not even faltering, smile expanding even more on his face.

She nods and types a few things into her computer. Cas nudges his shoulder, pointing up at a dozen or so family photos sprinkled on the wall, some colored others black and white. He stares at one of the black and white pictures of a woman wearing a long old-fashioned dress and a wide dark colored hat. He smiles softly, leaning over and whispers, “I saw her arrive in heaven.”

“Really?!”

Cas nods, “Cynthia Rhodes was her name if I remember right,” He pauses, smiling at the woman behind the counter as she gives Dean their key and explains to them where there room is and check-out times. When they head towards the stairs, he continues, “She cried when she got there, she was thrilled, as most people are but she kept asking if her husband was here. One of my brethren brought them together, they shared a heaven after all, and at their reunion her tears of joy are one of the first moments I experienced humanity’s capability to love.”

“Holy shit.”

“Of course, I never truly understood what it meant to love until I met you.”

Dean blanks for a moment at Cas’ blatant acknowledgment of love, but recovers quickly, because that’s how he rolls and replies, “That might be the cheesiest thing you have ever said.”

Cas grabs his arm, stopping him, rising up and pressing a kiss against Dean’s lips. “Sue me,” he deadpans, snatching the key out of Dean’s fingers and continuing down the hall towards their room.

Dean wordlessly trails behind him, too stunned to do anything else but follow Cas into their room like a loyal little puppy dog.

He tosses his bag onto the bed and examines the room. There’s less pink this time, more pastel green and white overtones, which, weird but also kind of pretty. Lace is still very present though, and the comforter sports a pattern of bright green and brown leaves covered in a thin lace. Even the curtains covering the balcony door are lacy, and if he looks out he can see through to where the ocean would be if it wasn’t so goddamn dark.

Cas immediately walks over to the balcony, throwing open the doors and letting a rush of cool, salty air inside the room. Dean is toeing off his shoes when Cas comes back over, sliding his hands around Dean’s waist and hugging him from behind.

“Thank you,” he says, kissing the side of Dean’s cheek.

Dean turns around in Cas’ arms, slipping his hands up to rest on Cas’ hips. “For what?”

Cas shrugs, glancing around at the small room, “This,” He state, obviously. A fluttery feeling starts in the pit of Dean’s stomach and his mouth starts drying out, he’s trapped in Cas’ blue gaze for a few brief seconds until Cas’ eyes drop and he hangs his head bashfully. “And, for wanting me back. I was hopeful that you did, but unsure, I’ve always been unsure.”

“Cas-“

“And I know regardless of what you say that you are afraid of this, of us, of losing me, something, but try not to be. This may be the second end of the world, but I’m not planning on going anywhere.”

Dean doesn’t know what to say, everything Cas is saying is true. That’s how he feels. He’s so used to being separated from Cas for long periods of time, he honestly is worried that now that they are together, the universe will see fit to purposefully separate them just when Dean finally has happiness within his grasp. It wouldn’t surprise him, at all, which is why this time they have together is so precious and they have to make the most of it.

So instead of saying some sappy reply, which he could do but the sentiment would nowhere near come close to explaining how he feels about Cas, he kisses him. All desperation, gripping hands, and pliant lips; so intense he causes Cas to take a step back and cling to Dean’s waist in order to stop himself from falling over.

“Dean,” Cas gasps into his mouth. His hold tightens around Dean’s waist and it’s clear who is in control now, the angelic power kicking back in. Cas takes the lead gently maneuvering Dean backward until the back of his knees hit the bed. All Dean’s previous thoughts of going to the beach later, or going out at all vanish the instant Cas presses him down into the mattress, fingers grappling at the fabric of Dean’s t-shirt as if he can’t get it off fast enough.

He really can’t apparently, because he whines impatiently when the shirt gets stuck around Dean’s head and they both have to struggle with the dumb thing to get it off. It falls, abandoned onto the floor. Cas instantaneously starts kissing every visible inch of Dean’s skin he can, like he’s starving for it. He’s been waiting for years so, it only makes sense. Dean can do nothing but lie there, watching Cas’ every move, hands tangling in the short hairs at the nape of Cas’ neck and biting his lip to keep the whimpers at bay.

No one has ever kissed him like this, no one. Cas’ kisses are feather-light as he leaves criss-crossing trails of them down Dean’s chest and lower abdomen. The lower he goes the more sensitive his skin is and Dean has to make Cas pause a few times because he can’t help giggling. Not his fault his stomach is ticklish. But it feels so good, so right and Dean wonders why no one else kissed him like this.

He knows why. Lisa tried, so did Cassie, they came close, their kisses were soft too, they loved him, it was obvious.  Cas kisses with utter unconditional devotion and at an almost worshipful pace. He traces every line of freckles dotted along Dean’s chest, all the unhealed scars and the vacant space where The Mark used to be with a reverent mouth and tongue until Dean’s shaking beneath him and the only sound leaving his lips is Cas’ name.

Cas stops suddenly, hovering over Dean, eyes glinting in the darkness. He fixes Dean with that awful soul-searching stare of his that makes Dean want to curl up and crawl into a hole, because there’s no way in hell anyone could possibly look at him with that much love. It’s not possible. Cas stays there for a moment, suspended above him, before surging downward and crushing his lips against Dean’s. His hands fumble with Dean’s belt, but he manages to pull it off and tosses it behind him where it falls on the floor with a clank.

His jeans and boxers follow and as the cold air sends a rush of goosebumps all over his skin, Dean thinks it’s not fair that he’s naked and Cas isn’t. Dean eagerly raises his head to chase Cas’ lips when they vanish for the briefest moment and he frantically starts unbuttoning Cas’ shirt, impatiently tugging off his tie and pants. He needs to feel him, now.

When they are both flush against one another, Cas pauses again, much to Dean’s dismay, gazing openly across his body. Thoroughly examining him with his eyes causes a red heat to spread over Dean’s body, Cas presses a kiss right over Dean’s heart and says, “You are so beautiful.” Dean’s body lights up into flames and he shakes his head, covering his hideously blushing face with his hands.

“Cas-,” Dean starts to protest, focusing intently on Cas’ bellybutton versus anywhere near his eyes.

“It’s the truth, and I hope one day I can help you see that,” Cas replies. Dean’s eyes flick up to Cas’ and all he sees is raw honesty there. It does something inside him, twisting that little angry voice that always persists in his head telling him how awful he is and silences it, if only for the next few minutes.

Cas wastes no more time in talking, putting his mouth to other good uses that has Dean scrambling to keep himself from coming before Cas ever gets to his dick. Dean chants his name like a prayer, body arching automatically into Cas’ touch as he places kisses along Dean’s collarbones. His fingertips roam over Dean’s hips, tracing the contours of them like he’s precious, so precious that if Cas doesn’t touch him as gentle as possible, Dean will crumble beneath him.

When the sensations are too much and Dean is pretty sure that he’s going to die if he doesn’t come like right the fuck now, he gasps out, clinging to Cas’ shoulders, “Cas, c’mon, please I need you. I need you inside me.”

It’s the first time he’s ever said that to anyone and he’s unprepared for the wash of arousal that floods through his body from that one phrase. Cas’ lips pull off from Dean’s nipple with a pop and he stares down at him, eyes dark with arousal.

“Are you sure?” He asks, fingers curling around Dean’s cheek.

“More sure than I’ve ever been in my entire life,” Dean responds, eagerly rocking his hips up against Cas’. This draws a moan out of him and Dean, for a moment, feels victorious.

Cas climbs off of him and reaches over off the edge of the bed where Dean’s duffel is lying on the floor and grabs the bottle of lube he somehow knows Dean keeps there.

Okay, that’s not actually that far-fetched he always has lube in there, Cas has probably seen it.

Cas squirts a bit onto his fingers and Dean watches on, impatient, breathing heavily and trying to control himself. He wants to come when Cas is inside him, not before. Cas nudges his knees apart and slowly inserts one finger into him. Dean hisses, it hurts a little bit but once Cas starts moving and leans down to kiss him, Dean decides that so far this isn’t too bad. He relaxes as Cas works another finger inside him, and pushes deeper, grazing over his prostate and Dean almost jumps right out of his skin from the jolt of pleasure that rushes down his spine.

“Fuck, oh my god.”

Cas pulls his fingers out and leans down, mouth against the shell of Dean’s ear. “Hold on for me, you’re doing wonderfully.”

Dean barely has time to process Cas’ words and let them float and soak into his skin before Cas is slowly thrusting into him and all of the breath leaves Dean’s body. He doesn’t bother to hold back the guttural moan that escapes his mouth and lets his nails sink into the flesh on Cas’ shoulders.

Watching Cas fuck him is one of the most mesmerizing and sexy things Dean has ever seen. He doesn’t fuck fast, not at first, he takes his time, just a slow thrusting of his hips, enough to make Dean see a glimmer of stars and feels a slight burn of pleasure before it’s gone again. He’s getting ready to beg for Cas to fuck him harder, when Cas starts quickening his thrusts. He looks so gorgeous, mouth parted, panting and lust-blown blue eyes. Dean doesn’t think he could ever get enough of this.

 “I wish you could see how beautiful you look,” Cas says, leaning down to press a deep kiss against Dean’s lips.

His hands move from where they are pressed against the mattress at Dean’s sides to grab his wrists, slide his arms above his head and slot their fingers together. Cas slows down, each thrust rocking into his prostate shoots bursts of pleasure throughout Dean’s body, eyes fixed on Dean’s never leaving his gaze.

Dean comes, whimpering Cas’ name against his collarbone. Cas follows soon after, crying out Dean’s name and pulsing into him until he collapses onto Dean’s chest, breath hot on his neck and fingers shaking from where they are still trapped within Dean’s.

“Holy shit,” Dean mutters, after he finally gets back his breath and his head isn’t spinning with stars anymore. He runs his fingers through Cas’ hair, who is still sprawled out on top of him, head buried in the crook of Dean’s neck.

“That was wonderful,” Cas murmurs, snuggling against Dean’s neck, hot mouth pressed against his pulse point. “Again?” He asks, slightly raising his head to look at Dean.

Dean chuckles, leaning down at pressing a kiss against Cas’ forehead. “Sleep first, we can in the morning before we go.”

Cas frowns, “Why?”

“My ass hurts for one, and second I’ve never seen you this tired, ever and you’re an angel. We should sleep.”

Cas nods, blearily adjusting his position so he’s curled into Dean on his side, body trapped within Dean’s arms. “Okay, that sounds good.”

Dean runs his fingers through Cas’ hair, with a dopey smile on his face. He turns his head to the side for a while to watch Cas slowly drift off to sleep. He might only sleep for a few minutes, who knows how long it takes for angels to repower or why he even is tired from sex in the first place. Just when he thinks Cas is almost asleep, he moves again, curling tighter into Dean.

“Love you,” he murmurs, so quietly at first Dean thinks he misheard. Then when the realization hits, panic sets in and Dean freezes, hand mid-stroke in Cas’ hair.

Dean can’t say it back, he wants to but he can’t, not yet. Instead he makes his sentiments known by leaving a lingering kiss on Cas’ cheek and tightens his grip around Cas’ body. Dean is sure it’s not the kind of love confession Cas wants, but for now, that is all Dean can give him.

Cas seems to understand though, sighing happily against Dean’s chest before his breathing slows and for the first time Dean has ever seen him, falls asleep. It takes Dean awhile longer, the entire night catching up with him, but soon he follows Cas into slumber.


	3. Chapter 3

A day later Dean and Cas have returned to the Bunker and are situated around the table in the main room along with Sam and the thousands of books covering nearly every available surface. When they first arrived, much to Dean’s dismay, Sam noticed something was different between them the instant he opened the door.

He squinted at Cas for a few seconds before moving onto Dean, who he eyed more skeptically then asked, “So are you guys together now or what?”

Dean raised his eyebrows, glanced over at Cas and nodded wordlessly, scared to death of Sam’s reaction. It wasn’t that Sam _didn’t_ know Dean was into guys too or that Sam was anything near homophobic (he wasn’t) it was that this was Cas and he was so much more than just any guy.

“I’m so glad you finally got the stick out of your ass,” Sam replied; flippantly at Dean as he pushed the door open more to let them in. Sam’s reply wasn’t earth-shattering or anything exciting, nonchalant actually and had Dean gaping at him and Cas grinning from ear to ear as they walked into the Bunker.

“So, whatcha got so far?” Dean asks, once he has a beer in his hand and a sandwich in his gut and Cas finally out of his trenchcoat and sitting next to him.

Sam tosses him a paper covered in chicken-scratch handwriting of all his notes he’d been taking for the past few notes. To Dean it looks like a bunch of mumbo-jumbo and all he keeps seeing over and over again are the words, _God, grace, magic_ , and _mind control._ Dean scuffs at it and hands it to Cas who regards the paper with narrowed brows and intense concentration.

“We need God,” Cas states, looking up from the page at Sam.

Sam shrugs, “Yeah, it doesn’t seem possible to beat this thing without him.”

“I figured so; the only problem is I have no idea if he even exists anymore,” Cas answers with a heavy sigh, handing the paper back to Sam.

“So what you’re saying is, if God jumped ship and is on some unknown galaxy faraway, we’re screwed?” Dean asks.

“Basically.”

“That’s fucking awesome,” Dean replies, sarcastically, downing the rest of his beer in one smooth gulp. He might as well have a few more too, considering the chances of anyone getting out of this goddamn thing alive are looking like next to nothing.

“Is it even possible to find God anymore, _if_ he still exists?” Sam asks, posing the question towards Cas, who in this subject is the most knowledgeable.

“I believe I could summon him in Heaven, though his reaction may not be positive,” Cas answers.

“Whoa, wait, you can actually summon God?!” Dean asks in disbelief.

“Well, angels can if they so dare, though death could be the consequence. I’ve never heard of any of my brethren actually trying to summon him. If the stories in the bible are true, which most are, according to the Prophet John, ‘No one has ever seen God, but the one and only Son, who is himself God and is in closest relationship with the Father, has made him known,’ Cas explains.

“We’re screwed,” Dean states, rising from the table and stomping into the kitchen to grab himself another beer.

He hears Sam sigh at his retreating back and say, “Are there any angels in heaven who would even be willing to do this?”

Dean pops off the top of his beer taking a long swig and listening for Cas’ answer.

“I will,” he says and Dean almost chokes on his beer.

He whirls around, storming back into the room and waving his beer bottle at Cas, not caring that a few drops splash onto the floor, “Oh hell no you’re not. I’m _not_ letting you die for m- us again.”

Cas narrows his eyes at Dean, defensively and the blue crystals in his eyes spark with fire, “I will not sacrifice any more of my innocent family for something that I helped unleash. This is my choice, Dean, not yours.”

Sam, the ever silent not voice of reason in this case, looks back and forth between the two of them, not choosing a side (traitor) and not speaking up either. Dean shoots him a ‘C’mon have my back, Sam, we can’t let Cas do this’ look but Sam won’t look at him.

“But…” Dean starts, clenching the bottle in his hand, he fumbles with his words, they roll around in his mouth like loose marbles and he can’t get ahold of them.

“But what?”

“I don’t want to lose you,” he grits out, overly harsh. Sometimes his emotions come out in anger at the worst times. He hates that part about himself.

Cas’ gaze softens, fire calming and gaze turning back into that tranquil blue lake Dean loves way too much. He gets up from his chair and crosses the few feet between them. His hand rises to rest against Dean’s cheek, gentle, soft, and Dean blushes because this is way too intimate for him in general, even more so since Sam is in the room.

“I know,” Cas answers softly, “I don’t think you will.”

“How can you be sure?” Dean asks, voice softening, as he relaxes underneath Cas’ touch.

“I’m not but trust me Dean, please. I want to help and I’m not going to just let you and Sam try to fix this mistake by yourselves. If this is all I can do, then so be it.”

“I don’t want you to do this either,” Sam pipes up quietly, after what seems like ages of silence.

Cas sighs, hand falling from Dean’s cheek as he turns to look at Sam. “The risk is great, I’m aware and I do not want to die, especially now,” He pauses sharing a brief smile with Dean, “But I truly believe I am the only one who can do this.”

“God, you self-sacrificial bastard,” Dean mutters, laughing ironically under his breath.

“I learned from the best,” Cas shoots back, reaching over and sliding his hand down the back of Dean’s arm until he reaches Dean’s hand and tangles their fingers together.

“Are you sure?” Sam asks. “You really don’t have to do this.”

“I’m sure,” Cas answers, with a confident nod.

After all they’ve went through to get this far together, Cas wants to go and bask in the burning light of God. He might die, be blasted into a thousand miniscule pieces of ash and Dean will never see him again until he returns to heaven and relives the memories of past week. Dean doesn’t want that, he wants the real thing.

He wants to make it out of this alive with Sam and Cas at his side and slow down a bit. Not retire all together, he’ll never be able to do that, but Dean would definitely be okay with doing run of the mill hunts, the easy ones he used to do as a kid.  Hell, he’d even be okay with getting a house maybe, something little along a river so he can go fishing every Saturday morning with a garden along the river’s edge where he can grow his own vegetables instead of buying the bruised ones from the cheap supermarkets.

Dean would like that, especially if Sam got to be happy too. He could find himself someone to settle down with. They could live nearby, go on hunts together and have those stupid barbecues like normal people. It would be perfect, unlikely, but the possibility throws Dean’s brain into motion and he finally gets it.

If Cas doesn’t do this, then _no one_ will make it out of this alive. And as much as the thought of Cas dying makes Dean physically ill he gets why Cas needs to do this so badly. It’s similar to the reason why Sam needed to sacrifice himself the first time when he jumped into the pit and save the world. The needs of others always outweigh the needs of the self, or whatever.

Sam and Cas have always been similar in that respect, willing to die for the greater good. Dean has too, though; he’s always been more of a selfish motherfucker.

“When will you leave?” Dean asks, dropping Cas’s hand and moving across the room away from his brother and Cas.

“As soon as you’ll let me. The faster we get this locked back up, the better.”

“Dean and I will go out and check up on if the darkness is affecting humans yet, we’ll meet you back here okay?” Sam says.

“In how many days?” Cas asks.

“Three? And if you’re not back by then or we aren’t, we go out and find each other,” Sam offers. Cas nods his consent and they both look towards Dean who is standing off to the side, sliding his pointer finger around the mouth of his beer. He doesn’t agree with this plan, not one bit. If he had his way he would be going with Cas, Sam would too, just to make sure he’s safe and that he comes home. But someone needs to go out and see if The Darkness is riling up trouble, plus Cas probably wouldn’t let him come along even if he begged.

“Dean, are you okay with this?” Cas asks gently.

“There’s nothing else we can do,” he replies. He grasps the neck of the bottle in his hand and paces into the kitchen, emptying the rest of its contents down into the sink and tosses the bottle into the garbage can where it lands into the hollow opening with a clank. Sam’s voice drifts in from the other room, quiet and heavy with emotion.

“I wish you didn’t have to do this.”

“I wish I didn’t have to either.”  

There’s a pause and Dean doesn’t know what makes him hold back and not return to the main room, but he stays, hovering in front of the sink and listens.

“I know that you guys being together is new and all, but whether he admits it or not, Dean has loved you for a long time. He needs you just like you need him… and I need you too, so please, come back.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Sam, don’t worry.”

He hears the slow, easy release of breath exit Sam’s mouth.

“Okay, okay, good.”

Dean chooses now to interrupt their sappy heart-to-heart, strolling back into the room and clapping a hand on Sam’s back.

“You wanna go pack up our stuff? I’ll make us some sandwiches for the road.”

Sam catches his eyes and thankfully understands Dean’s need to talk to Cas alone for a moment and nods his head, “Yeah sure, I’ll be down in ten.”

He gives Dean a little smile and heads down the hallway towards their rooms. Once Sam is out of eyesight, Dean closes the few feet of distance between him and Cas and slides an arm around his back, pulling Cas close up against his chest. Cas melts in his arms, hands sliding around Dean’s waist to hug him, resting his head on Dean’s shoulder.

Dean is worried he won’t be able to let go.

“Come back to me, okay?” Dean says softly.

“I always do,” Cas answers. He pulls back slightly, pressing a soft kiss to Dean’s cheek and then smiles, brilliantly and it takes Dean’s breath away.

“I love you, you know,” Dean admits. He might as well get over himself and finally say it, if he doesn’t now, he might not get to.

Cas steps back into Dean’s personal space, eyes twinkling. His hand slides lovingly along Dean’s hip, stopping only when he captures Dean’s lips in a soft, chaste kiss.

“I know, I love you too.”

~~~

An hour later Sam and Dean are headed west towards Denver and the silence in the car since they left has been stifling. Dean doesn’t feel like talking, he’s upset, clearly and so is Sam though for different reasons, but they both don’t want to mention how they are letting Cas clean up their mess for them. It’s not his job, he didn’t let this monster out into the world they did. To combat the silence and overwhelming guilt Dean feels knowing at his stomach he flicks on the music and sings-along, letting himself get lost in the melody. Sam pulls out his tablet and starts tapping at it, no doubt trying to check news sites and finding any updates about the state of the world.

A mile out of Denver, Dean turns to Sam and asks, “So, have you found anything?”

Sam looks up at him, eyes dark and heavily guilt-ridden just like how Dean is feeling and flicks the radio to AM.

“Yeah, listen.”

Shit.

“Breaking news out of Fort Collins, Colorado: around eight this morning a forty year old man, opened fire in a shopping mall killing twenty people and injuring fifteen. He then presumably drove home, murdered his wife, children and was found dead on his front lawn later in the afternoon. Witnesses at the mall say he was waving a machine gun around and yelling that he, “Just couldn’t take the torture anymore.” This murder-suicide follows a series of similar violent killings out of California, Illinois, and Virginia earlier this week bringing the death toll of this week’s incidents up to near one thousand. Authorities are suggesting the influx of killings are related to the lack of sunlight, however this cannot be proven, but for now please do not leave your homes unless absolutely necessary, it isn’t safe out there. Updates will be released on the next hour. Stay tuned.”

“Fuck.”

Sam nods, angrily turning the radio off and falling back into his seat. “It’s definitely not from lack of sunlight. We have got to do something.”

“Yeah, I know that Sam, thanks. That’s what we’re trying to do, but you know this would be a whole lot easier if we had a way to fight the damn thing.”

Sam sighs heavily and rests his tablet down on the floor near his feet, pulling out his phone and flipping through the contacts.

“I was thinking, and if we’re going to learn magic so we can help the angel fight The Darkness, we need someone to teach us how. Not that we can’t teach ourselves, it just would be safer this way, you know?”

“Well, yeah, but who do you wanna ask?”

“I was thinking Rowena,” Sam offers.

Dean squeezes the steering wheel so hard his hands turn white. “Fuck no.”

“Why not?”

“She fucked with Cas,” Dean spits out. “You remember that girl in Missouri who had blood in her eyes, went batshit, and then died? Yeah, Rowena cast that spell on him.”

Sam’s eyes grow wide, “How the hell is he even alive?”

“I guess because he’s an angel it didn’t affect him like it does humans, which thank fuck, but still, we’re not working with Rowena unless you plan on killing her.”

Sam nods in agreement, “Yeah, totally. Do you want me to at least ask her for a list of ingredients for spells or something?”

“Sure, why not,” Dean shrugs. It’s unlikely if Sam doesn’t call her that they will get the information from anywhere else, despite Rowena being an awful person, she has her uses. They don’t have to go find her and kill her right now, there are bigger problems, but as soon as this is all over, she’s gonna regret ever fucking with Cas.

~~~

While Sam is on the phone with Rowena, aggressively scribbling down spells and ingredients on a notebook, Dean manages to hold in his anger by channeling it all into scanning the sky and the road for anything strange. Other than the blackness all around nothing out of the ordinary seems to be popping up. A few other cars are on the highway with them, though the roadways are much less populated than Dean remembers.

“I got it,” Sam says with a successful grin on his face and waving his phone.

“Awesome.”

“Are we stopping in Denver for the night?” Sam asks.

A glimpse of bright orange catches Dean’s eyes up ahead blocking one lane of the highway and he slows down, “Maybe.”

Flames are dancing in the wind, stark and extra bright against the black. A glimpse of metal catches his eye and it’s then that he sees the inferno is being spurred by an overturned car. When Dean gets close enough he pulls off to the shoulder a couple hundred feet away from the blaze just in case it decides to explode. Glancing over his shoulder he searches the area for bodies and finds a shadowed lump sprawled in the median. Sam must notice the person too because he sucks in a breath and tugs on Dean’s sleeve.

“We should go check if they are still alive.”

Dean nods and pushes open the door, Sam following close behind him. They jog across the highway over to the body. Sam kneels down beside the body, a young woman, and gently nudges her over onto her back. Scrapes cover her face, her arm is twisted grotesquely, and there is a large gash on the back of her head. Her eyes are starting to glaze over, open and afraid, she’s gone. Dean releases a sigh and reaches down a hand to help Sam back to his feet.

“We need to call the cops.”

“Yeah.”

They do once they get back to the car. Dean watches Sam talk, his hand is shaking and he’s clearly thrown by this as much as Dean is. It’s not like they haven’t seen death before, but this is another one most likely on them.

“You okay?” Dean asks once Sam has hung up the phone and stares blankly out the side view mirror at the fading flames.

“No, I feel weird,” Sam answers quietly. Dean takes a moment to look over and notices that Sam is curled in on himself and scrunched up into the corner of the seat away from Dean.

“Weird how?” Dean asks, glancing between the road and Sam.

“Hungry.”

“Well, we can stop at a diner pretty soon; we’re almost to Denv-”

“Not for food,” Sam interrupts. Dean stares at him, disregarding the road for a moment, and watches his brother raise his fist to his mouth and bite down on two of his fingers, anxious and jittery.

“For what?” Dean asks cautiously, though he thinks he might already know the answer.

“Demon blood,” Sam answers, almost a whisper.

“You haven’t wanted demon blood since the Apocalypse, Sam, maybe you’re just tired, upset, I don’t know, but you’re not craving demon blood,” Dean focuses back on the road fingers tapping on the steering wheel.

“Dean, pull over, please,” Sam pleads, curling in on himself even further and staring with large, scared eyes at Dean.

Dean pulls to the side of the road, not five miles from the car wreck and shifts the Impala into park. He turns to Sam, hesitantly reaching over to him, “Sam, breathe, okay, this isn’t real it’s a hallucination okay, it’s The Darkness.”

Sam shies away from his hand, backing even more into the corner and regarding Dean’s hand like it’s a leech. “I know, I know it’s not real, but I can’t stop wanting this, it feels like there’s a hole in my stomach and if I don’t drink I’m going to die.”

Dean unbuckles his seatbelt and reaches out for Sam again, and this time Sam lets Dean touch his shoulder. “C’mon Sam, pretend it’s like a nightmare, one of those ones you got when you were a kid. It’s just a dream.”

“I can’t,” Sam says, he clutches at Dean’s arm and pulls himself forward, until he’s burying his face in Dean’s neck and clinging to him, his entire body shaking.

“Shhhh, it’s okay, I got you, this isn’t real, and you’re okay, alright?” Dean says, wrapping his arms around Sam’s shoulders.

“I’m sorry Dean, I’m sorry I fucked up so bad, I fucking ended the world, again, this is all my fault. I need to just leave, just go jump off a cliff or something and stop bringing you down with me.” Sam is spewing words, but it’s the beginning of what has been happening to everyone else once they start to be affected by The Darkness. Dean tightens his hold around Sam, smoothing a hand down his hair.

“Hey, hey listen. Yeah, this thing is bad, but we’re gonna fix it okay? You, me and Cas, we’re gonna save the world, and you’re gonna save the world again. Sammy, fight this, I need you around to help me beat this thing, I need you to be around afterwards so we can retire and go on vacations with Cas.”

Sam starts sniffling and then he quiets, the shuddering stopping and he pulls out of Dean’s arms.

“Sam?”

Sam takes a few deep breaths seeming to be trying to gauge his physical state and then gives Dean a shaky smile. “I think… I think I’m okay.”

“You sure?”

“I’m not craving anymore, yeah.”

Dean pats Sam’s shoulder, and gives it a squeeze. “You scared me there for a minute.”

“Sorry, I didn’t think this thing would affect me. I’ve been going to the store while you and Cas were gone and nothing ever happened, maybe it knows that we’re trying to lock it back up.”

“Probably, you wanna keep driving?”

Sam nods, “Yeah, keep going.”

~~~

They find a cheap motel on the outskirts of Denver. Their room isn’t charming, the curtains are dusty and full of cobwebs, the carpet sends puffs of dirt flying into the air when you walk on it, and the only clean piece of furniture in the room are the beds. The mattresses are shitty though, they squeak when Dean sits on them, but at least they are clean, that’s all he cares about. It’s not like they are going to be here for long anyway. Sam collapses on the bed almost the instant he is in the room, barely finding the strength to tug off his shoes before he curls up underneath the covers and promptly falls asleep, leaving Dean to salt everything and do the routine check. Dean is tired too and quickly gets ready for bed. After he gets into bed, he turns on the television, volume low and listens to the news for a few minutes.

“Breaking news out of New York City where a middle-aged man, who had been in the previous week reporting resurfacing memories of abuse from childhood, broke into his parents’ house, killed them both with a machete and then proceeded to kill himself. This is the fourth murder out of New York City in the past twenty-four hours. On the eleven o’clock news, updates will be shared following the new murder-suicides in Georgia and Texas. Thank you for your patience, our thoughts and prayers are with all the families of these people in this time as we continue to search for reasons behind this horrifying epidemic.”

Dean slams the off button on the remote, dousing the room in a blanket of black, and slides underneath the covers. He curls up underneath the scratchy blankets, ignoring the guilty thoughts slamming back and forth around in his brain like loose cannons and tries to fall asleep.

~~~

A few hours later, at promptly one thirty in the morning, Dean wakes up in a sweat and his throat is unnaturally dry. He gets up out of bed; pads into the bathroom and fills up a glass with water to douse his parched throat. The last few drops of water are sliding into his mouth when a jolt of energy rocks his body and hundreds of his past memories start replaying in his mind like a slideshow and it’s like he’s watching a movie of himself.

He’s five years old, on his way into Kindergarten scared to death, with his father walking next to him. John pulls a little on his arm, stopping him next to Mrs. Finnegan’s room and bends down onto one knee to be at eye level. _“Dean, don’t walk with your arms hanging like that, it makes you look like a girl.”_ John tugs slightly on Dean’s arms until they look how he wants them. _“Stand up straight, be a man. Yeah, that’s right just like that; you gotta set a good example for your brother alright. Be strong.”_

The next memory flashes forward, seven years later, he’s sitting at a table doing his homework with Sam. He’s a teenager now, thirteen, fully hitting puberty and so washed with strange feelings he doesn’t know how to deal with them. John is sitting on the couch of their new rental house, cleaning his guns.

_“So Dean, did you make any friends at school today?”_

Dean watches himself grin excitedly, perk up a little bit and eagerly start talking, _“Yeah! I met this kid named Timmy, he likes baseball and football just like I do and we played catch for a while during recess. He’s awesome Dad, and when we left school today he gave me a hug.”_

John, not bothering to be excited about the fact Dean made a friend launches right into his next question, _“Did you meet any girls?”_

 _“No, I… I just met Timmy he’s awesome though Dad, you’d really like him,”_ Dean tries, hoping his dad gets the point that Dean doesn’t really care about the girls at his school, at least not now since he met Timmy. He doesn’t just like Timmy as a friend.

_“Ah, well don’t worry, you’ll find yourself a girlfriend soon.”_

Dean jolts back to the present, slamming his eyes shut, and forcing his mouth open he cries out a weak, “Sam,” hoping that his brother isn’t too asleep to hear him.

Another jolt hits him and instead of a slideshow of images, it’s only words this time, rushing into his mind like a waterfall.

_I’m disappointed in you, Dean; you should know better. You don’t need school, anymore Dean; I want you to start coming on hunts with me. Make sure Sam does his homework, that kid’s a genius. Wow Dean, she’s a catch how did you get her to go out with you? Watch out for Sammy. That was a rookie mistake Dean, you’ve been hunting for years, how could you fuck up that bad?_

“Dean, what’s wrong?” Sam’s there, right behind him, a gentle hand gripping his shoulder and sleep still glazing his eyes.

“Dad,” Dean chokes out. He folds in on himself, gripping the countertop and hanging his head.

“Is it memories?” Sam asks softly, he slides his arm around Dean’s shoulder, comforting and warm.

“Yeah,” Dean answers, quietly.

“Shit.”

Dean doesn’t understand why the fuck Cas would even want him, he’s an awful person, all the things he’s done, how many people he killed while he was a demon and with The Mark. How could Cas even love him at all? He went to hell once, he should’ve never gotten out.

“I get why you stick around,” Dean starts, “I’m your brother, you’re gonna love me no matter what, but Cas, he doesn’t have to. And after all I’ve done, how the hell could he want to be with me let alone be my friend? I got him killed, Sam, he lost his family because of me, his home and yet he still wants me? That’s fucking crazy; I’m not worth that, I’m not worth anything.”

Sam tugs on Dean’s shoulder, pulling him around to face him. Tears are welling in Dean’s eyes and it feels like his entire world is falling apart. “Listen to me for a second, okay? I know that when you were a kid Dad told you shit that made you feel awful, like you aren’t worth anything, that was wrong and that’s all on him. It’s not true, Dean, you’re not worthless. You’re amazing, you’re my hero. You save people, you have saved so many people over the years and you do so much good. Sure, you’ve made mistakes, so have I, so has Cas, and do you know what that means? It means you’re human, not worthless. And Dean, I see the way Cas looks at you, what he’s done for you and he loves you more than anything. You’ve gotta know that.”

“You’re sure?” Dean asks.

“More than sure. Anyone with eyes can see how much Cas loves you, it just took you a while to realize it.”

Dean chokes out a laugh mixed with a sob and pulls Sam into a hug; his father’s words are fading now, memories vanishing just as quickly as they came. 

“Thanks Sammy.”

Sam smiles when he pulls away, “No problem.”

He bumps into Dean’s shoulder, towards the middle of the room, “C’mon let’s get some more sleep, we’re gonna need it.”


	4. Chapter 4

_**Two Days Earlier** _

Cas leaves the bunker for what might be the last time with the taste of Dean’s lips lingering on his mouth. He always tastes sweet when Cas kisses him, but not overly so, enough that it’s addictive. Cas memorizes the taste until it’s ingrained into his memory; worried that might have been the last time he will get to kiss him. Dean’s potentially last words to him flutter around in his mind.

_Come back to me._

_I love you._

He smiles a little to himself, he’s glad Dean finally found the courage to say what Cas had been feeling for the past seven years. Not that Dean needed to tell Cas he loves him, Cas has known for a while, but it’s nice to be able to know what the words sound like coming out of Dean’s mouth. He hopes he’ll get to hear Dean say it again, if there is a single reason for him to make it out of this venture successfully, their reunion is number one reason on his list.

The original portal into heaven is situated in Utah. He could have asked Dean and Sam to drive him, but asking Hannah to move the portal to a mile away from the Bunker was easier. He pauses alongside the road, whipping prairie wind ruffling his hair and sends up a prayer.

_Hannah, I know I have no right to ask for this, but I need your help._

Their voice, soft and kind drifts into his mind, _What do you need, Castiel?_

_Can you move the portal? I am a mile directly to the east of the Winchester’s Bunker._

_Of course, one moment._

Hannah’s presence in his mind vanishes and he waits, patiently, glancing around the surrounding area for Metatron’s Cube to appear. With a flash of fluorescent blue the sigil appears twenty feet out in the middle of a corn field and Cas runs to it, jumping into the light before it vanishes away and the portal closes. He’s transported into a plain, white hallway with thousands of identical grey doors with numbers and names on them. In case of attack he unsheathes his angel blade and heads to the right, towards the angelic area of heaven and away from the human’s personal heavens. Hannah appears beside him, face scrunched up in worry. They grab his arm, pulling him to face them.

“You are here because of The Darkness, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I need to summon God.”

Hannah’s eyes widen and they vigorously shake their head. “No, you can’t!”

“There is no other way to fight The Darkness unless God is on our side,” Castiel tries to explain.

This does nothing to appease Hannah though; they stop walking at his side, and glance nervously around. They’ve reached the Garden of Abraham, one of the gathering spots for angels in heaven. A few other angels are around them, practicing fighting with their blades or helping each other clean their wings.

“Come this way, we shouldn’t discuss this in front of the others,” Hannah states, tugging Cas’ sleeve so he’ll follow.

Hannah leads him into what Cas can only assume is their office. He’s been here before, the gray room with small windows of light seeping in from the outside and the blue, purple and pink checkered windows off to his left. His nightmares happened here, this room used to be Naomi’s office, but now that she’s dead Hannah is the new “head of heaven.” Hannah sits across from him at the desk, just like Naomi did and Cas fights back the memories that sift into his head.

“Are you certain this is the only way?” They whisper, hands folded on the tabletop in front of them, eyes searching Cas’ face.

“You know the story, of course it is. Even if we tried to fight without God, we’ve lost so many garrisons since the beginning of time there is no way we would stand a chance.”

“What about the Winchesters? I don’t imagine they will surrender easily.”

“They will be using magic. Sam has done research on this and found that any kind of incorporeal force can wound The Darkness.”

“Good, that’s good. I still don’t know if this is beatable, but if you’d like heaven’s support you have it.”

“Really?” Cas asks, dumbfounded at Hannah’s blind faith in him.

“I trust you Castiel. You may have made mistakes in the past, but this, saving the earth and having the courage to do so, that is not a mistake.”

 

“Thank you, Hannah,” Cas says, reaching out to cover their hands with his own, smiling.

Hannah leans back and away from him, rising from their chair. It slides across the floor and bangs against the table. “I assume that your real mission was not to see me, but to find God.”

Cas copies their motion, standing up and heading towards the door. “Yes, I was wondering if you could perhaps keep everyone away from Garden of Eden for a while.

“I understand your perseverance, but you and I both know that only archangels are allowed in the Garden of Eden, and since they are all dead I doubt if the garden will give you entrance.”

Cas shrugs, he has nothing left to lose. He’s said his goodbyes, if he comes this far to fail, so be it.

“The least I can do is try.”

They exit Hannah’s office to a large group of angels huddled together, staring at them and regarding Cas with wary eyes. He knows that up in heaven his reputation has gained some positivity thanks to Hannah, but many of the angels are still doubtful of his goodness. They have every reason to be, he doesn’t blame them. Hopefully this will somehow redeem him.

He walks past the group of angels, head held high, and face solemn. A hand reaches out and grasps at his trench coat, fingers tight, yielding him.

“Why are you here?” one of the angels asks, voice cold and hard with anger.

Cas turns around to face the voice. He doesn’t know the angel, but their doubt in him is not unfounded. “I want to help.”

The angel roughly drops their grasp on him and takes a step back, double faces scowling, “You always want to help and it never works out.”

Cas shoots a glance over his shoulder at Hannah who nods at him encouragingly. Transferring his gaze back to the other angel, he takes a step towards them and meets their eyes.

“This time it _will_ work out,” he says, honestly.

The angel makes something akin to a huff, “We shall see.”

Hannah rests their hand on the top of Cas’ shoulder, “Castiel, you should go, you have a long journey.”

Cas nods. “Yes, I should go. I’ll meet you back here in a couple days,” he says, smiling a little at his friend and brushes past the other angels, continuing on his way down the path towards the garden.

The Garden of Eden is the furthest garden from the entrance of heaven, far away from all the human’s heavens and the garrisons of angels, and with his wings not working; he has a bit of a walk. It is the only place in heaven where God’s face has been shown to the archangels. If God is going to be summoned anywhere in the entire universe, it would be here.

He hears footsteps behind him and abruptly stops, jerking his head around to find one of the last fledglings born before the fall following behind him. She freezes when he catches her, tiny wings fluttering nervously behind her and she takes a few steps back. He remembers her, Karael, one of Inias’ children. He walks towards her slowly and she shies away from him.

“It’s okay, I won’t hurt you,” He says and she nods slowly, staring up at him with her four, wide eyes.

“You’re Castiel,” She whispers, looking up in wonder.

“I am,” He answers kneeling down and smiling softly at her. She comes towards him, stopping right in front of his face, and reaches out with one of her fingers to touch his forehead. A bit of her grace flows into his mind, floating down through his body until her silent words reach him.

_"I have faith in you. I know you will save humanity, and us. Good luck, my brother._

“Thank you,” Cas replies, after she retracts her finger and the warmth of grace goes away.

She says nothing else, but smiles a little and scampers back down the path, pure white wings flapping as she runs.

Cas continues on his way. A day passes and he doesn’t stop to rest, he doesn’t need to. As he gets closer to the garden, the brighter everything around him becomes. Heaven is already bright to being with, a constant white brightness that to humans would hurt their eyes, but to Cas the brightness only increases heaven’s beauty.

He crests a hill and a golden brocade gate stands directly in front of him, vibrating with hyper energy. Vines wind around the structure climbing and winding until its leaves dip off to the side like long locks of hair. The Garden’s name is written in curled writing at the top of the curve, in latin, _Hortum Edenis._

Cas stands in front of the door, hand hovering a few inches away from the shiny golden doorknob. He looks up at the door, closes his eyes and recites the only prayer-like summoning spell he knows.

“Deus meus, ego te invoco in meo tempore necessitatis, mihi ades et mihi da, servo humili tuo, gratiam habendam ut vultum tuum videam et etiam vivam.”

At first nothing happens and Cas waits breath trapped in his lungs. A low whining starts and slowly the door starts opening, revealing a lush area filled with flowers as far as the eye can see. He waits until the doors are fully opened and steps inside. Brightly colored birds flit around, swooping down above his head chirping happily. A smile grows on Cas’ face and he continues forward, walking down a neat dirt path until he reaches a small fountain in the center of the garden. He sits on one of the marble steps lining the fountain steps, basking in the light. A bush of roses flourish on his left, each flower perfectly formed and blood red. He snaps one off its stem sniffing the sweetness and letting the aroma infiltrate his nostrils.

Resting the rose on a step he rises, standing next to the fountain, and looks around. So far, he’s still alone, no holy presence filling the garden and no other beings visibly present. Kneeling at the fountain he clasps his hands closing his eyes tight until his eyelids wrinkle.

“Deus, opem a te oro in meo tempore necessitatis.”

Cas opens his eyes, rotating his head over his shoulder to search the garden for a new presence. He doesn’t see anyone but he doesn’t feel alone anymore, an invisible shadow hovers around him bearing down on his shoulders. The chirping of the birds has increased and they soar high above him in twirling loops, silky wings shining in the light.

“Deus meus, quid dereliquisti me?” Cas asks, waiting for the bolt of lightning to strike him for asking such a question.

“I have never forsaken you, my child.”

Cas freezes, not daring to move or look in the direction of the voice. God’s voice is melodic, a sweet sounding smooth cantor that Cas wants to listen to for eternity. He’s soft, gentle and when Cas finally turns around to look at him, he is surprised.

God isn’t a golden orb of light; he’s an old scraggly looking man with a thick beard and soft, kind, blue eyes similar to his own. Nevertheless, despite his appearance, Castiel prostrates before him, the dutiful servant and waits until fingertips touch his forehead before raising his head.

“Stand before me, Castiel. You want to have a chat, yes?” He asks, eyes twinkling. He smiles a little, dimples appearing underneath his scruffy beard and Castiel doesn’t feel so afraid anymore.

He feels like he’s talking to an old friend.

“Yes, if that is alright,” Cas says, head hanging. He doesn’t dare look at God’s eyes for too long, he’s unworthy and he doesn’t want to mess this up.

“Of course, sit down,” God instructs gesturing to the steps in front of the fountain.

Cas obeys sitting back down next to the rose he picked earlier. He settles his hands on his knees and avoids the urge to fidget with the buttons on the pockets of his trench coat.

“You want to talk to me about The Darkness.”

“Yes, my friends, Dean and Sam Winchester through means necessary to save the earth from the Mark of Cain accidentally unleashed the old evil and in order to beat this, we need your help, if you would be so kind to provide it.”

After he finishes talking, Cas finally steals a glance at his creator. He’s an ordinary looking man, more human-like than Cas could have imagined. Wrinkles are scattered across his face and he’s wearing an almost threadbare old potato sack kind of shirt and pants with brown sandals. Humans might mistake him for a hippie; the thought alone makes Castiel fight back laughter.

“In order to lock-up The Darkness, you do need my help. Without it, victory is unattainable. I would help you, though with the state of the angels, I don’t believe we have enough force to do so. Last time we lost many in the fight and this time surely everyone including myself might be lost.”

“What can we do?” Cas asks.

“I have an idea and I want to help you. Castiel, you have saved the world and broken it many times. Each time you’ve lost your life and I have given it back to you so that you could, one day reach this moment.”

“I don’t understand.”

“There is a way to beat The Darkness, but you have to be willing to sacrifice and open to the unknown, which I know you are, you have proven so time and time again.”

“What are you thinking?” Cas asks, eagerly; curious as to what God could think of that he and the Winchesters hadn’t thought of yet. He was certain that they had brain-stormed every possible alternative to finding God himself before settling that this was the only option.

“You’d have to take my grace. Temporarily of course, any longer and you would perish.”

Cas’ eyes widened. Take God’s grace? That’s impossible, he couldn’t do that. He was “God” before and what happened then? He almost ended the world. He couldn’t possibly do that again.

“What will me taking your grace do?” He asks.

“Since you are an angel the combined power of your grace and mine would create a force more powerful than myself and with your love for humanity, you would create a God trifecta that would be unparalleled to any sort of evil in existence.”

“What if it doesn’t work and kills me instead?” Cas asks in a quiet voice. His thoughts drift to Dean and how distraught he will be if Cas dies. Cas doesn’t want to die, not yet, not when he has everything he’s ever wanted.

“Then you die and come back to live up here in your happy memories forever. You were human for a time after all, and Castiel you have been through so much, you deserve peace.”

The thought of living forever in heaven with only memories of Dean versus being alive and getting to have the real Dean with him, makes Cas feel sick to his stomach. If however, all of humanity is saved thanks to his death then he will do what he must. He glances up at his father, nodding solemnly in understanding, “I don’t want to die, but if I must in order to save the world, then I will.”

His father claps his hands together, smiling brilliantly and stands to his feet. “Would you like to do this now?”

“Right now?!”

“Unless you have something waiting for you, now would be ideal.”

“What do I have to do?” He asks. A bubble of panic rises in his throat and for the first time since being a human, he feels like he can’t breathe and wants to run back out the gate and leave heaven as fast as possible. Fear, right, he’s scared.

“Kill me, I’ve heard that your friends down on earth have Death’s Scythe. Use that. When I die, my grace will rise from my body and you must say, “Let the grace of God live in me,” and it will hopefully, enter your body. The process of combining the two graces may be painful, who knows, but then you will be God and angel, the most powerful being in the entire universe.”

Cas squints at his father, this seems way too simple. He’s making this sound like a recipe for baking a cake when the weight of the entire world weighs on this. This whole combined grace idea probably won’t even work.

God chuckles, a full-bodied laugh at Cas’ confused face. He controls himself and apologizes, “I’m sorry, did those instructions make sense?”

Cas nods, “Yes but how do you know this will work?”

God grins, one side of his mouth tipping higher than the other and he winks, “Let’s just say it’s a lucky guess.”

He pats Cas on the shoulder twice, still grinning and Cas rises to his feet. “Now, go back down to earth, get the scythe and come back here. I’ll be waiting.”

Cas walks down the steps, mind reeling with all the information he just internalized and blindly heads towards the gate.

“Oh and Castiel?”

Cas turns around, “Yes?”

With his fingertips, God picks up the red rose Cas picked earlier stepping down from the fountain and hands the flower to Cas.“Take this to your precious Dean.”

Cas takes the rose from him, staring at it. He can only imagine the look on Dean’s face when Cas comes back with a rose for him like a protagonist from one of those romance novels Cas enjoyed reading as a human.

“In the human world this flower will never die. Give it to him as a symbol, if you catch my meaning.”

A shy smile breaks onto Cas’ face and he nods slowly, “I understand, thank you. I’ll be back soon.”

His father gives him a happy smile and a little wave, and then Cas turns his back to leave. The gate closes behind him with a hollow clang and he begins retracing his steps back towards the portal.

~~~

When he returns to the portal nearly a day later, Hannah is waiting for him there anticipation written all over their face.

“Did you see him?!” They ask, grabbing his hand and practically bubbling in excitement.

“I did,” Cas answers them. They eye the rose in his hands with confusion, but that is forgotten in their quest to find out about their father.

“What was he like?” Hannah whispers.

“Oddly human, though I was very aware of being in the presence of the one who created the universe. It was a strange experience.”

“Is he going to help?”

“Yes, but there is something I need to get so I have to go back to earth. I will be back in a few hours. Begin preparing the angels for battle; I know you know what to do.”

Hannah nods their head and wraps an arm around Cas’ shoulder in an awkward attempt at a hug.

“Don’t worry, we will be ready.”

~~~

Cas lands in the field with a thump and his leg breaks the fall, which if he wasn’t immune to human pain would have probably hurt really bad. Sometimes, being an angel has its perks. The sky is still covered by the blanket of darkness and Cas eyes it with disdain. The wind is rougher than he remembers, flapping the long tails of his coat in between his legs and throwing his hair into a dizzied frenzy. The rose blows in the wind, stem bending back and forth and if it had been any normal flower not from a heavenly garden it would be broken by now. But of course, heavenly roses are perfect and can bear all forms of weather. Even so, Cas sticks the bloom inside his coat so it doesn’t keep slapping him in the cheek while he walks back to the bunker.

Sam and Dean are waiting for him when he gets back, sitting in almost the same position they were in when he left. Except now they look more distraught and less calm, something must have happened.

“What’s wrong?” Cas asks, the moment he enters the bunker he’s at the top of the staircase and Dean stares up at him, blinking erratically as if he can’t believe Cas is actually standing there.

“Oh my god, you’re okay,” Dean says.

Cas starts down the stairs and Dean meets him halfway, wrapping his arms around Cas’ waist and burying his against Cas’ neck. Cas hugs him back, arms gripping tight and resting his head on Dean’s shoulder.

“I’m okay, I’m here,” he says, comforting.

Sam lets them have their moment, waiting until Cas actually gets down the stairs to hug him, but he isn’t far behind.

“We were so fucking worried,” Sam says, wrapping his long arms around Cas’ shoulder.

“I’m sorry it took me so long, what did you both find?” Cas asks.

“The Darkness is starting to fuck with people. In the past few days ten people have gone on murderous sprees of rage, killing their entire families, friends, sometimes people they don’t even know and then themselves. It starts with a horrifying nightmare, a memory or a craving and it drives these people so crazy they can’t take it anymore and result to murder,” Dean explains.

“It’s really effective,” Sam adds with a frown, “We’ve gotta do something about this.”

“Yeah, but anyways, did you find God?” Dean asks.

“I did, I found him and he has a solution.”

“You’re fucking kidding me, that’s awesome!” Dean says, grinning and tugging on Cas’ sleeve, pulling him a few feet away from Sam to press a short kiss against his mouth.

“Yes, but it’s not a certain fix and I don’t think either of you will like it very much.”

Sam frowns, crossing his arms over his chest, “What did he say?”

Cas sighs, grabbing the nearest chair and sitting down in it. “I have to kill him.” Dean tenses up and opens his mouth to retort, but Cas stops him, “There’s more. I have to kill him, recite a possession spell, and let his grace come inside me.”

“No way, Cas c’mon you can’t be serious,” Sam says, settling down in a chair across from him. His face is paling, eyes wide and scared not for himself, not for the world, but for Cas’ well-being. Next to him, Dean is silently pacing back and forth across the floor; fist clenched and pushed up against his mouth.

“Because of the lack of angelic power which is partially my fault, God’s grace alone isn’t strong enough, but he believes that a combination of mine and his will be,” Cas explains. His eyes are on Dean, watching his every move. Dean’s shoulders are tense now, entire body a stiff line, and any second now he’s either going to burst out into anger or fold into himself and say nothing.

“It’s not your fault, Cas, not this, not the angels, you were manipulated, no one blames you for that,” Sam says softly.

“I know, but I blame me.”

Silence takes over and the only sound is their uneven patterned breathing and Dean’s shoes pacing across the floor.

“Are you going to do it?” Dean asks, voice barely above a whisper. He stops pacing and looks over at Cas, guarded and clearly upset. Cas wants to hold him and tell him that he’s doing this for him, so that everything will be okay and they can be together. He just wants Dean to know that everything will be okay. He hopes he’s right.

“We don’t have any other choice,” Cas replies sadly, meeting Dean’s eyes.

Dean breaks his gaze away first, walking back over to the stairs and sitting down on the second step up. He covers his face with his hands and releases a heavy breath.

Sam sighs deeply beside him, reaching over and resting a hand on Cas’ shoulder.

“What do you need us to do?” Sam asks.

Cas rises from the chair, too uneasy to continue sitting, so he wanders around the room by the bookshelves.

“You still have Death’s Scythe right?” He asks.

Sam nods, “Yeah, we kept it. Figured it’s safer in our hands than anyone else’s.

“I need it; it’s the only weapon that can kill God.”

“Okay, what else?”

“Be ready when I return, and have all the supplies ready for the spells you will be using in battle. I can meet you in Chicago or I can travel with you, it’s up to you both.”

“You’re coming with us,” Dean says, speaking for the first time in a few minutes.

Dean still won’t look at him, insistence and a mix of anger spreading across his face. If Cas really wants to talk to him about what’s really bothering him, he’s going to need to do this not around Sam. Cas looks over at Sam with pleading eyes and asks, “Sam, could you give us a few moments?”

Sam nods in understanding. “I’ll be in the library,” He says, grabbing one of the books off the table and heading down the hallway.

Cas waits until he can no longer see Sam’s retreating form down the hallway and then sits down on the stair next to Dean. He grabs one of Dean’s hands from where they are resting on his knees, wrapping his fingers around his wrist and rubbing his thumb back and forth across Dean’s palm.

“Talk to me.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

Cas sighs, breath leaving his lungs in a quick puff, “Dean…”

With his free hand, Dean picks at a loose thread on the seam of his jeans. Cas can feel the words coming seconds before they blurt out of his mouth. “I don’t want you to do this, okay? You don’t have to keep fucking doing this kind of shit for me, for everyone.”

“And?”

Dean groans, probably annoyed at the fact that Cas knows he doesn’t want to say anymore even though the words are lingering on the tip of his tongue.

“I don’t want to lose you, I can’t and I won’t.”

Cas squeezes Dean’s hand, slotting his fingers in the empty spaces where they fit like perfect puzzle pieces.

“If I don’t do this, we both die, Sam dies, and everyone and everything you and Sam, your entire family and I have ever done to keep this world safe will go away. The end doesn’t justify the means, it never does, and you know this more than anyone. I don’t want to become God again, it was hell the first time and it will surely be hell again.”

“Then don’t, why can’t we just let the world burn for once?” Dean asks softly, he sniffles and wipes at his nose. Later Dean will say he has allergies, but Cas isn’t an idiot, he knows better.

“Do you really want to do that?”

Dean shrugs, “No, but right now I do. It’s not fair you know? Two weeks ago when it was just you and me finally getting to just be together, that was awesome and I wanna do that again, but we never can. There’s always something we have to kill, someone we gotta save and don’t get me wrong I love it, I do but I’m tired so goddamn tired of losing the people I love just so someone else gets to be happy. What can I say? I’m selfish.”

“You deserve to be happy, Dean. But I know you and I know that no matter what you are feeling right now, you won’t be able to sit back and let the world go to hell.”

Dean nods slowly, chuckling a little and says, “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

Cas leans over and presses a kiss against Dean’s forehead. “Can I make you a promise?” He asks.

“Yeah, sure.”

“If this does work and we do get out alive, we’re going back to that beach in New Jersey, when it’s light outside. Sam can come too, obviously, and we’ll all just spend a week at the beach and not think about hunting, or saving the world or anything.”

Dean looks over at him; face lighting up with a big smile. “Really? ‘Cause that would be awesome.”

“Of course. I still can’t believe with the amount of traveling you and your brother did in your childhood that your father never let you go to the beach at any point in time.”

“We didn’t really have many cases along the water, most of ‘em were in small towns more inland and Dad never really stopped anywhere for longer than a few days at a time.”

“Well, we’ll have to change that. You and Sam deserve a vacation.”

“I think you’re right.”

Dean leans over and captures Cas’ lips in a long, deep kiss. It’s one of reunion and of thanks, sweet with a touch of melancholy. Dean’s hand grabs at Cas’ coat pulling it open slightly, causing the rose to drop out of the inside pocket.

“Hey, Cas why do you have a rose?” Dean asks curiously, picking up the flower and staring at it with his eyebrows scrunched up together.

“It’s for you from The Garden of Eden in heaven,” Cas answers. He can feel himself blushing, anticipating Dean’s response at his hopelessly romantic gift.

“From the… the what?” Dean asks. He’s holding the rose with the tips of his fingertips minding the thorns and staring at the perfect red color in fascination.

“The Garden of Eden in heaven is the only place in the universe where God’s face can be seen, the true God of course, and it is an actual garden. This rose, since it is heavenly, will never die and I thought it might be fitting to give it to you,” Cas says. He brushes his fingers against a petal and meets Dean’s gaze.

Dean stares at him in awe, almost dropping the rose from his fingers, but he doesn’t, adjusting his holding on the flower to around its upper neck so he won’t prick himself and without saying another word he gets up off the step and walks towards the kitchen. Cas follows, confused. He’s hoping Dean isn’t upset. Cas pauses in the doorway, watching as Dean opens up one of the cabinets, pulls out a large glass and fills it with water from the faucet sticking the rose in there.

“It doesn’t need water,” Cas states uselessly and Dean sets the makeshift vase right in the middle of the dining table.

“Yeah, I know but still, flowers are supposed to be in water.”

Cas smiles and walks over to Dean finding his hand and squeezing it tight.

“That might have been the most romantic fucking thing anyone has ever done for me and I kind of feel like I’m in a romance novel or something. Cas, you’re a sap,” Dean smirks at him.

“I guess I am,” Cas replies, smiling over at Dean. Their eyes meet and like always, as two magnets connecting, they are drawn together. Cas’ lips meet Dean’s in a soft, wet kiss and then shortly he’s pulling away, seriousness etched into his face.

“I should go soon,” He states, plainly and obviously. Dean drops his hand, sighing dejectedly and nods.

“Yeah, you should. You’ll come back here though, right?” Dean asks. The necessity of Cas’ presence on their journey to Chicago doesn’t go unnoticed and Cas tries to ease Dean’s worries but doesn’t hesitate with the truth.

“If I can. I have no idea what will happen once I am God, either way, the fight will not start without you, I promise. I will be at you and your brother’s sides the entire time.”

“Okay, let’s go find Sam.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Latin translations in order of appearance:  
> "My God I call upon you in my time of need, come to my aid and grant to me your unworthy servant the grace to see your holy face and live."  
> "O God, I beseech your help in my time of need."  
> "My God, why have you forsaken me?"


	5. Chapter 5

The hugs goodbye are lingering, no one knows what this change in form will do to Cas or if he will come out of this in one piece or even himself. They all remember what happened last time Cas decided to play God. Cas can sense the fear and worry in the boys, it vibrates in their auras as they remember the leviathan and black goo trickling down the tan of his trench coat. He understands their skepticism. Last time he fucked up, majorly and almost tore the world down with him. This time, he’s hoping that since the grace he’s receiving is pure and holy that his second trip as God will atone for what he’s done to heaven, to Sam and Dean, and the entire world. Maybe if he can forgive himself, then he’ll finally be freed from all the residual guilt he has trapped inside his soul.

Sam and Dean drive him to the portal in the Impala, not allowing him to walk there by himself. He takes his time getting out of the car, feeling like a man on death row, ready to walk into the unknown. Sam hugs him, and Dean kisses him before he steps into the sigil, body pressed as close against Cas’ as he possibly can. His hands settle around Cas’ waist, fingers grasping at Cas’ trench coat when he starts to pull away.

“We’ll be waiting for you right here,” Dean says tugging on Cas’ coat, clearly not wanting to let go.

Cas nods, smiling a little and leaning in to press another short kiss against Dean’s lips, trying to cheer him up. “I’ll hurry back.”

Dean finally meets his eyes and Cas notices tears sparkling there. He looks to Sam and notices the scowl on his face that means he’s holding back tears too. Cas shoots him a loving smile until Sam’s face perks up a bit and he nods at him to go ahead. Turning back to meet Dean’s gaze, Cas reaches up and cups Dean’s cheek with his palm, a gesture of love and goodbye just in case. He takes a step backward into the sigil and the Winchesters disappear.

~~~

Hannah meets Cas at the portal along with a large faction of angels they’ve managed to convince to join them in their crusade against The Darkness. He greets a few of them with encouraging words and thanks for supporting him. Hannah leads the way, Cas next to them as they and the rest of the angels guide him back to the Garden of Eden. Hannah keeps pace with him occasionally looking over at him and smiling proudly.

“Many of the angels are on our side,” Hannah states, smiling happily. “They understand that despite your past mistakes all you wish to do is save humanity and your family. You are sacrificing everything for love.” Hannah chuckles then, a melodious sound leaving their lips and it sounds like church bells ringing. Their eyes sparkle in the ever growing brightness. “Everyone is calling you the second Messiah, the second Christ. They think of you as their savior.”

Hannah reaches over, taking Cas’ hand in theirs and clasping gently. “I think they are right.”

Cas smiles shyly at the compliment, stopping and taking Hannah’s hands in both of his. “I will be their Savior only if you will be my John.”

He doesn’t deserve the compliment, but Hannah deserves this one. John was the most loyal of Jesus disciples and though Hannah doubted him once a long time ago in the beginning, they have been with him every step of the way since and always had his back. After the apocalypse Cas was sure that he would never be able to find a friend amongst his brethren ever again, he’s glad that he turned out to be wrong. Hannah is a strong ally and a loyal friend, he got very lucky.

Hannah smiles, teeth shining brighter than the sun and they pat Cas’ hands twice. “We should continue; we do not want to keep the Lord waiting.”

The walk to the Garden seems short this time now that he is not alone. It’s nice to have back up, to have others who are in this with him. Cas’ mind keeps drifting to Dean back down on Earth. He knows that Dean is probably worried sick, slumped in the driver’s seat of the Impala, blaring music and staring out at the empty road just waiting. Sam is next to him of course, waiting and trying his best to comfort him and ease the ache in his own heart. Dean may be in love with him, obviously, but the love Sam has for Cas is not inferior, just of a different variety. If he asked, Cas knows Sam would die for him.

Cas musters all the power he can manage and sends a warm, happy rush of energy back to earth, hoping it reaches the boys and eases their worry just a little. A few paces away from the Garden he receives two prayers back that send a surge of hope and confidence through him.

_You can do this, Cas. We’ve got your back._

_We’re gonna kick this thing in the ass; you just do what you gotta do. Love you._

The golden gate glints in front of him, towering above his army. Anxiety tickles along his spine, kneading at the spaces in between the muscles of his spinal cord and sending shudders down his back.

Hannah nudges his arm with their elbow after what seems to Cas like an eternity of him staring up at the twining vines around the arch of the door.

“Brother, go in peace.”

Cas nods, taking in a shaky breath and slamming his eyes shut. He thinks of green fields, of green Christmas trees and the talls grasses that dance in Dean’s eyes whenever Cas looks at him.

He knocks three times on the large door and in a thundering voice which shakes the ground under his feet says, “Deus meus, regressus sum.”

A crackling of lightening jets across the white brightness of the sky striking the top of the gate and spurring it into movement. The metal opens slowly, a flash of light erupting from inside, causing all the angels around him to shield their eyes with their wings and stagger backwards. Cas is unharmed and the garden stands before him, colorful and perfect as it was. He steps inside and the door slams shut behind him, a rush of wind ruffling his coat and almost knocking him off his feet.

God is where Cas left him, sitting on the top step below the fountain except there is a single red rose hanging from his fingertips. Cas kneels and prostrates before him, waiting for permission to rise. God huffs in annoyance, sighing and walks over to Cas tapping him on his shoulder.

“Enough of that, we are equals now. If you are to become me and I am to die, you must act like a ruler.”

“I don’t want to rule, I just want to fight.”

“Yes, I know my child, but you are going to have the grace of God inside you, and this is no small cross to bear, you need to deserve it,” God explains, sitting back down in his spot and picking a petal off of the flower.

“What do I need to do?” Castiel asks. This was supposed to be simple, a spell, and then it would all be over. He could lock up The Darkness, give God back his grace, and retire to a happy life with Dean and Sam.

“Nothing, you’ve already proved your worthiness, you only need to believe in yourself.”

“That’s it?” Cas asks in doubt.

God throws his hands up in the air, a cheeky smile on his face, “That’s it!”

Death’s scythe weighs heavy in Cas’ hands and he rests the end of the handle in the dirt. He doesn’t want to kill his father, the thought is unbearable. The universe will surely hate him for killing its creator, but there is no other way. He twists the scythe in his hands, impatient and dreading what is to come. He sends off one last prayer, just in case and hopes that Dean gets the message.

_I love you._

“Are you ready?” Cas asks, gesturing towards the scythe.

“Are you?” God asks, raising a quizzical eyebrow.

“I believe so.” He walks forward until he is a few steps away from his father. His hand is shaking around the scythe and he’s never felt so weak and so powerful at the same time.

The creator stands before him in the guise of an old, grey-haired happy-go-lucky old man who despite disappearing just when humanity and his children needed him the most, has proven himself to be kind despite his absence. Cas will forever be grateful to him for that.

“Forgive me for what I am about to do,” He asks.

His father nods, closing his eyes and kneeling at Cas’ feet. “You are forgiven.”

Cas falters, staring down at his creator. If hell was not waiting for him before this, it surely is now. The scythe vibrates in his hands, impatient energy waiting to be used and struck into the being of God himself. Cas does the spell first, slicing a line across God’s neck, similar to how Metatron did to him two years ago. A blue-white glow emits from the cut, and Cas can feel the warmth of God’s releasing grace hovering in the air around him. It leaves his body in a burst of white light, twirling in spirals around his father’s now human body until it stops, resting above his head like a halo; a mark of a martyr.

“Vivat diu gratia Dei per me, servo sanctissimo Domini.”

The grace bolts towards him and Castiel opens his mouth, giving it permission to rush inside, but the energy pauses stopping right before his lips and starts whining in a high-pitched tone. There must be something else, he has to convince the grace that he is worthy of this. God’s grace must have a pure home, a sanctuary for it to abide and work through him to do good. Cas straightens his back, thinks of Dean and digs deep inside himself to find the courage that he lacks.

“Ego sum alpha et omega, primus et postremus, principium et finis.”

With a joyous ringing, more beautiful than that of any angelic singing he’s ever heard, the grace rushes at his mouth and Cas lets it inside, swallowing the brightness. As soon as the grace is inside him, God crumples to the ground at Cas’ feet. Cas falls to his knees, dropping the scythe, tugging at his father’s shoulder and trying to wake him up. Cas hadn’t even killed him, he just died as soon as the grace left his body.

_His purpose has been served, you are my vessel now._

Cas freezes at the voice floating around in his head, slowly registering the changes in his body and rises back up to his feet. He feels his grace bind with God’s twisting into one essence, the atoms combining into a destructive force, sending jolts of electric energy throughout his body. An explosion rockets through him and in that moment, as his body explodes into light, he’s certain that he is going to die.  Quickly, as if a candle doused, the light fades cascading across the garden, sending a symphony of birds flying into the air, wings outstretched and singing praises unto him.

They land on his shoulder, pecking lovingly at his cheeks and coat and whistling into his ears.

_Glory be to the Lord of the Heavens, may his grace forever shine forth!_

_Praise to the creator of the heavens and the earth, his love is pure, his work good. Honor his reign forever!_

Cas smiles, it’s no wonder his father was so happy, he was continuously getting praised all the time. He pets the head of a particular green and blue parakeet that lands on his forearm. At his touch the bird, shoots into the sky, a cry of joy screaming from its lungs.

He doesn’t feel different, aside from the new voice in his head and a new amount of power surging through him, so strong and unimaginable he has no idea how to control it.

 _I will help you_ , the grace tells him speaking to him for the second time, sending a calming flow of love through him. _You will win this war, Castiel. You are God now; with me you can do all things._

The crumpled body of his father lies on the ground and the birds are circling him now, mourning and yet continue to praise Cas’ existence. He reaches down with his hand, gently resting his fingertips onto the top of God’s head, hoping that if he truly is the new God, perhaps he will be able to heal him and when the war is done, he can return and give the grace back. Nothing happens and Cas frowns, what use is he as God if he cannot even heal another being? His grace shoots a cooling sensation down his arm, forcing him to retract his fingers.

_You can heal all ailments and resurrect the dead, Castiel, but your father served his purpose. Now it is your turn and soon, it will be another’s._

Cas steps forward off the steps and along the path towards the door. It opens for him automatically revealing the entire heavenly host standing outside waiting for him. The birds leave him, flying back into the trees, unable to exit the heavenly garden. Hannah is at the entrance and immediately falls to their knees, bowing before him. The other angels follow their example, prostrating down until like a wave, a sea of heads bow, trembling in his presence.

It’s reminiscent of the time he forced Sam and Dean to do the same and the action leaves a sour taste in his mouth. His grace senses his discomfort and jolts into his memories, flicking through them like a scrapbook until it lands on the correct one. Black goo, snarling teeth and a wide lake flash in front of his eyes before vanishing.

_I am not evil, Castiel. If you do not wish for them to bow before you they do not have to, you make the rules now._

Cas breathes a sigh of relief, stepping forward until he reaches Hannah and taps them lightly on their head.

“Rise; all of you. There will be no more bowing, or prostrating, I wish to be your equal.”

The angels rise, beaming thankfully at him, their wings fluttering in happiness.

“Yes, my Lord,” Hannah replies. Their formal tone makes Cas cringe and he doesn’t understand why anyone would want this job.

“Also, no “my Lord” or, “God” or anything like that, call me by my name,” He orders, scanning the crowd of angels.

Hannah laughs lightly, smiling happily at him. He can see their angelic soul now. It vibrates with golden energy, pure, kind and loyal; a good friend and dutiful second in command. They love him, with their whole heart, not in the way he loves Dean, but in a partnership sort of way, formed out of respect and fighting together.

He feels a hand on his shoulder and Hannah gasps. “Castiel, your wings, they are back!”

Jerking his head over his shoulder, he sees his wings, brand new, healed, sparkling golden. They flutter constantly and where the feathers rub together, little specks of gold trickle down onto the ground around him. It is one of the most beautiful things he has ever seen. He sends a thought of thanks to his grace.

_My pleasure, after all, you are going to need them._

Castiel steps forward, out of the doorway of the gate and it locks behind him, a shimmering dust painting the ground in a golden gleam. He meets the many eyes of his brethren, taking in their excited yet hesitant faces. He can feel their fear, their worry, and for a few of them a fizzling trust in him. He needs to prove himself.

Redemption is never easy.

“Thank you for joining us; I am honored to have your trust and alliance in Earth’s time of need. I can’t promise victory, or that anyone will return to heaven unscathed, however I can promise that we will be doing what we were created to do: protect humanity.”

“How do we know that you are not only doing this for the sake of Dean Winchester?” An angel in the back calls out.

That is a valid fear, his first conquest as God was for Dean’s sake and it ended horribly, they have every reason to doubt him now.

“I won’t lie to you, I am of course doing this in part to save Dean and his brother Sam. But for those of you who have known me for my entire existence you know that I have always loved humanity. This is what we were taught to do, this is our job, and we are to love humanity as God loved them: so much he was willing to sacrifice for them.”

Many of the angels murmur in agreement, so Cas continues. “Somewhere through the centuries we lost sight of our true mission and it’s time we remember what that was.”

Hannah looks over at him, eyes soft and kind. They understand that despite Cas’ immense love for Dean, that his love for humanity is eternal, always has been and always will. For a fledgling over fascinated with the workings of the earth, it shouldn’t have surprised anyone that his alliance to humanity would turn out in this way.

“Are you ready?” Hannah asks quietly, looking to Cas for orders.

“Yes, I will leave you now. Prepare for battle and in twenty-four hours meet me in Chicago.”

Hannah motions to the other angels, who at their command begin to head away from the gate, back towards the center of heaven. They press a comforting hand on Cas’s shoulder. “Go join the Winchesters, I will see you tomorrow. Godspeed,” They say, eyes twinkling at the ironic nature of their last statement and then they too follow the other angels, leaving Cas alone at the gate of the Garden of Eden.

Cas pictures the roadside he came from on earth, the Impala next to the road and Sam and Dean leaning up against her, waiting for him. With one flap of his wings, he flies down to earth, landing on the ground a foot away from the Impala and spinning up a tornado of dust around himself. Dean jumps out of his skin, twenty curses flying out of his mouth as he rams into Sam next to him.

“Holy shit,” Sam breathes, gaping at him. He grabs onto Dean’s shoulder, calming his brother down and Cas feels a mix of wonder and love coming from Sam directed towards him. “You’re okay,” he says, hesitantly coming forward and wrapping his arms around Cas’ form.

_Ah, Sam Winchester, the abomination turned righteous._

His grace shoots a burst of warmth out to Sam, leaking into skin and swimming around in his soul. Sam gasps, pulling back from Cas and staring at him in a mix of confusion and amazement.

“What was that?” He asks, hand lingering on Cas’ shoulder.

“My grace, it likes you,” Cas says, smiling.

Sam chuckles, stepping backwards and leaning up against the car, staring at Cas like he is the ninth wonder of the world. Dean is still spooked, not afraid, but cautious.

“You look different,” he says softly, stepping forward, “You’re brighter, and I can see your wings, they’re…. gold.”

Dean closes the distance between them, reaching out to touch Cas’ arm. A sudden rush of warmth spreads through Cas and sends a jolt through Dean so strong, he staggers backwards. He struggles for breath for a moment. Sam grabs his arm, shooting a worrying glance in Dean’s direction.

 _Why can he see my wings? I thought only angels could see them_ , Cas mentally asks his grace.

_He is your mate Castiel, of course he can see them. He can see every part of you, even your essence, your soul._

“You okay?” Sam asks, steadying Dean who cannot take his eyes away from Cas, and keep roaming up and down his form, trying to take it all in.

“Yeah, just… a little overwhelmed.”

“What can you see?”

“Everything,” Dean breathes. He walks out of Sam’s grasp, stepping towards Cas again. His fingers itch to touch him and Cas can feel Dean’s soul warming the closer he gets and all he’s getting from him is unconditional love.

Dean stares into his eyes, just looking at him as if for the first time and hesitantly reaches out, sliding his fingers along Cas’ jaw. He cringes a little at the electricity that surges when they touch but keeps his hand there.

“Do I need to ask to kiss you?” He says in a teasing tone, but there’s a quiver of uncertainty in his voice.

Cas shakes his head and smiles, “No, never.”

Dean doesn’t wait another breath, bringing their lips together gently. He gasps when Cas’ grace shoots him a burst of love from Cas’ soul and a lightning bolt strikes somewhere off in the field.

_Dean Winchester. The Righteous Man. His soul is beautiful, Castiel, I can understand why you love him so much._

“Literal fireworks, wow don’t I feel special,” Dean remarks with a laugh when he pulls away and notices the small fire burning off in the distance and the lingering lighting.

“How does it feel?” Dean asks, more seriously, hand slipping down Cas’ arm down to his hand. He clasps their palms together and smiles a little when Cas’ hand warms up and a tingling feeling shoots out of Cas’ body into his.

“Strange, similar to being an angel just so much more. It’s not bad. My grace likes you and knows you are… well… it said my mate. That’s why you keep getting electrocuted, sorry,” Cas says.

Dean shrugs, “It’s alright, kinda cool actually.”

 _I’m just trying to show him how much you love him_ , his grace shoots back, bouncing around in annoyance and shooting off a few more lightning strikes to prove a point.

Cas ignores the slight temper tantrum and reaches out to press a hand against Dean’s shoulder. Dean’s eyes close and he sighs happily, melting into Cas’ hand.

“Are you alright?” Cas asks, amused.

“I feel like I’m high, this is awesome.”

Sam laughs from behind them and Cas can see him smiling at the two of them.

“I wonder if you could make me come using your mind,” Dean wonders aloud, eyes sliding open to meet Cas’ again.

Sam huffs, crossing his arms over his chest shooting an annoyed look at his brother. “Can you not?”

“Hey, I’m just curious!” Dean shoots back, throwing a glare over his shoulder and grinning at Cas.

_You will not use me for sinful sexual means, Castiel. I don’t care how beautiful his soul is, I will not be reduced to a sex toy._

“My grace says no,” Cas replies, regretfully, lips twitching in amusement.

“Damn, it was worth a shot.”

All three of them burst into a fit of laughter and Dean leans back in to steal another kiss from Cas’ lips.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Dean says, finding Cas’ hand again and squeezing it.

“Me too.” Dean isn’t squeezing his hand very tightly, just a comforting weight against his palm reassuring him of how worried he was and how happy he is that Cas came out of this unharmed.

Cas is surprised that this whole thing went well to begin with, so many bad things could have happened but so far he’s avoided death, which is a miracle. He feels better than he has in his entire existence, his grace humming inside him, constantly shooting little jolts of warm love through his body to any area of him that is touching Dean. But there’s also an untapped energy he can feel, lingering in the background, waiting to be unleashed. He doesn’t know how to unleash it, maybe all he has to do is think about it, but once it’s out, there is no way he will be able to stop. It feels uncontrollable, like a tsunami, ready to destroy all in its path. Cas only hopes that casualties will not come of his impure grace.  “I honestly feel fine so far, just very powerful and ready for this to be over. Are you both ready?”

Dean nods and looks over his shoulder at Sam. “Yeah, we’ve got all the ingredients for the spells, the attack ones and defensive ones. You know, we might actually have a shot at this.”

Sam walks over to them, digging his hands into his pockets and grinning at them, “Especially now that your transformation went well, are all the angels onboard?”

“Almost all of them, Hannah is very persuasive. Only a few are remaining behind just in case no one returns, someone needs to be up there to keep things running smoothly.”

“That’s smart,” Sam remarks, he grabs Dean’s keys out of his back pocket, since Dean is unwilling to let go of Cas’ hand and flips open the trunk, checking all of their supplies and weapons.

“Should we leave soon?” Dean asks.

“Whenever you wish, I can transport us all there in less than a second.”

“Baby too?” Dean’s eyes light up hopefully and he looks back at the car longingly.

Cas laughs, squeezing Dean’s hand, “I’m not just going to leave your car, Dean.”

“We’ve got everything ready, so when you two are done acting like teenagers, we can go,” Sam says, opening the side door and climbing into the passenger seat.

“Sam, we could die out there, give us a minute.”

“Fine,” Sam replies in mock annoyance, but he’s smiling as he slams the door shut.

Dean drops his hold on Cas’ hand and slides his hands around Cas’ waist, sighing at the tingling that rushes through him. He leans in, pressing a kiss against Cas’ jaw, the upper part of his neck and one on his cheek. Cas’ eyes slam shut and he fights back the sudden wash of fear and sadness that rocks through him. He needs to do this, he’s come this far and they aren’t going to turn back now, but he’s worried that after the next twenty four hours he may never feel Dean’s lips or hands against his skin anymore. That thought alone terrifies him.

It’s amazing, even as God he can still feel immense emotional pain.

“I just wanna kiss you, everywhere,” Dean says, mouth brushing against Cas’ cheek, “Just in case, you know?”

 _Just in case one of us dies, just in case we both die_ is what he’s thinking, thoughts broadcasting so loudly it sounds like he’s yelling. Cas senses urgency in the thoughts, a necessity to make him understand how much Dean loves him, since he is unable to with words.

Cas doesn’t need the validation, he already knows how much Dean loves him.

“We’ll get a motel when we get to Chicago; you can do that there,” Cas states, nuzzling at the side of Dean’s face with his nose. Dean sucks in a breath, no doubt due to the burning sensation that Cas’ touch emits on his skin and he presses a kiss on Cas’ temple.

“Let’s get out of here then,” Dean says, pulling away with a raucous grin and practically jumping into the front seat.

Dean slams the door shut and stares up at Cas through the open window. “Do we gotta close our eyes or something?”

“No, just hold on.”

“Alright, beam me up Scotty,” Dean teases with a wink.

Cas closes his eyes, focusing on a small, nice motel with white-washed walls and an inexpensive price tag a few miles away from the gap in The Darkness. He places his hand on the car, grasping it and takes off, flying the thousand miles in a fraction of a second. The car rocks a little when he places it back down to earth in front of the motel in the closest parking spot, but the ride is not bumpy other than the landing.

Dean shakes his head a little, grinning at Sam and slapping his hands on the steering wheel.

“That was fucking awesome!”

Cas watches him get out of the car and meticulously checks her for any bumps, fingers running over her smooth paint. When he doesn’t find anything, he wraps an arm around Cas’ hips and kisses him in thanks.

“She looks perfect, not a scratch,” Dean says, green eyes sparkling with promise and mischief. It’s the end of the world, maybe, and all Dean cares about right now is making good on his promise to Cas.

 _Remember_ , his grace chastises him, _not a sex toy._

_Shut up._

“I’m gonna go get us some rooms, okay?” Sam says, tossing Dean his duffel from the trunk where it lands with a thump next to their feet.

Dean drops his hand from Cas’ hips and chooses to take his hand instead and they follow Sam inside the motel. Sam tosses Cas the key with a tipped up smirking smile, then lugs his bag down the hallway.

“Keep it down, guys,” He calls over his shoulder, before slinking around the corner and out of sight.

“No promises!” Dean yells back.

He laughs, whole-heartedly entire body rocking and the most melodious sound Cas has ever heard leaving his lungs. Cas leads him down the hallway to their room which is coincidentally next to Sam’s. They should be considerate, though Cas is unsure how quiet he or Dean can be during sex with his new form. Anything could happen.

Cas, because he’s feeling like a show-off, decides to open the door without the key using his mind power. It gets an eye roll and a shoulder shove out of Dean who pushes past him into their room and dumps his bag on the bed. While Dean sets himself out to unpack some things and put his toothbrush in the bathroom, Cas darkens the lighting in the motel room, setting up the “mood” lighting so to speak. It’s enough of a change that when Dean walks out of the bathroom he freezes, spins around on his heel, stares up at the overhead light, back to Cas and at the lamp on the nightstand.

“Did you…. dim the lights?”

Cas smirks, shrugging his shoulders and sits down on the edge of the bed, “Perhaps.”

“You fucker,” Dean breathes, striding across the room over to Cas and kissing him roughly, fingers digging into the back of Cas’ scalp, clawing at his hair.

_That’s not a very nice thing to call the God of the universe._

_Shut. Up._

Dean pushes him back against the bed, hands grappling to pull off Cas’ trench coat. That coat has always caused Cas more trouble than it’s worth, but it’s a piece of him and he doesn’t think he could ever give it up even if he wanted to. He helps Dean get it off of him and tugs on his tie until it slides off and drops to the floor alongside the trench coat. Dean pulls away from Cas’ lips to unbutton his shirt, practiced hands undoing the buttons in record time, exposing his bare chest.

His hands slide down Cas’ skin, a low moan rising out of his throat at the excessive warmth and shocks that spark against his fingers. Cas knows it must feel like he’s touching a live wire and mentally tries to tone down the electrical current running through him so Dean doesn’t have an aneurism or come before either one of them gets naked. It must work, because Dean smiles up at him and sighs in relief. There’s only a low hum of warmth, spreading across his body the more Dean touches him. Cas tugs at Dean’s shirt until he gets with the program and helps Cas slide it over his head. Their pants come off just as easily and when Dean finally drapes himself across Cass’s body, Cas can’t help the gasp of pleasure that leaves his lips. He shouldn’t even be able to feel lust anymore, or any emotion at all really, he’s God. Yet the ever smooth glide of Dean’s hands against his flesh or the gentle wet press of his lips, Cas’ love and desire for him continues to grow.

 

Dean presses Cas into the mattress, beginning to kiss down his chest, finding all the little lines, tiny moles and freckles that may not have originally been his, but are just a part of Cas now as his grace is. He kisses every single one, every slight blemish and perfect inch of Cas’ body until the new God is truly trembling underneath him, entire body vibrating with a static energy waiting to be released. Cas constantly keeps his hands on Dean, roaming over his chest, the nape of his neck, clinging to his biceps and sliding down the back of his thighs as Dean lovingly worships his body with his mouth like he’s never going to have another chance. Cas is slowly spiraling out of control, every pant out of his mouth indicates this and he can’t help the constant stream of whimpers and chants of Dean’s name that fly like prayers out of his lips. When Dean finally slides inside him, gently, and moving so slowly like he wants to make this as long as possible, Cas makes a strangled cry. It’s his turn to have a shock of electricity jolt through him and then explode in a burst of pleasure right in the center of him. Dean keeps his eyes on Cas’ the entire time, grass green meeting sky blue and for those few moments Cas feels a kind of unfettered joy he knows he might never have again.

Cas comes first, back arching off the bed and crying out Dean’s name. At once all of the lights in the room shatter and the electricity goes out. A low hum stutters to a stop around the entire hotel room and next door Sam bangs on the wall in annoyance at the loss of light and power. Dean comes soon after; hips stuttering inside Cas until the aftershocks stop and his shaking legs can no longer hold him upright. He collapses alongside Cas, a lazy hand resting on Cas’ ribcage, just running his fingers along the bones. Dean is humming a Zeppelin song under his breath when Cas reaches for the fingers that are resting on his skin, bringing them up to his lips and delicately kissing each one until Dean’s humming stops and he’s staring wide-eyed at Cas.

“I love you,” Cas whispers, holding Dean’s hand preciously in his own. He musters up a replication of his love and shoots it out through his palm into Dean’s body. A startled gasp leaves Dean’s throat and his hand trembles where it rests in Cas’ grasp. Dean curls in around Cas’ side and buries his head in the crook of his neck, basking in the warmth of his grace.

“I love you too,” He murmurs.

Sleep comes soon for Dean, his human body tuckered out from the long and emotional day. Not many men have to go through the trauma that is one’s angelic partner having to turn into the next God in order to save the world. He falls asleep with his fingers intertwined with Cas’, body warmed and comfort by the emanating calm Cas is projecting onto him.  Cas has no need for sleep, especially as God so he does has he did before when he was an angel and Dean needed sleep: he watched and waited.

Dean has always been a beautiful sleeper anyway, long eyelashes resting peacefully on his cheeks, lips formed into a half smile and his entire body more relaxed than it ever is when awake. Cas loves watches him move and his body parts twitch as he dreams and adjust positions. It’s beautiful, so human and Cas will never grow tired of observing the simplicities of human life.

_You are happy when you are with him, his grace pipes up for the first time after they made love, in hiding for the past half hour._

_I am_ , Cas answers, shooting another jolt of warmth out of his soul and into Dean’s.

_He loves you like you are the Holy Grail, like you are precious and he ensures your pleasure as well as his own. I have never seen a human love so freely and unconditionally._

_Dean has always been special._

_Yes, that he has._

~~~

The next morning Cas procures breakfast for both Sam and Dean, getting both of the boys their favorite meals. For Dean he finds a bacon, egg and cheese breakfast sandwich from a nearby diner, complete with hash browns and a steaming cup of coffee. For Sam he goes to a local, environmentally friendly café that serves cage-free omelets with a variety of vegetables and cheeses, blended together as well as a cup of strawberries and mocha. Cas visits Sam first, knocking politely on the door and holding out the food to his friend as a peace offering for the blatant disregard for his ears last night. The hug Sam gives him shows he’s forgiven for the noise and thanked for the gift. When he returns to his room Dean is sitting up in bed, rubbing his sleepy eyes. As Cas walks in the room, dropping the bag of food next to Dean on the bed, Dean grabs his arm before he goes and sits down at the small table near the window, pulling Cas against his chest and slowly kissing him, licking his mouth open until breakfast is forgotten and all Cas cares about is the minty taste of Dean’s lips lingering on his.

“Thank you,” Dean says, kissing the side of Cas’ cheek, before grabbing his breakfast bag off of the bed an settling down at the table to eat his feast. Cas watches him eat, admiring the way tufts of his hair stick straight up in the back and floofed down in the front from sleep and how adorable it makes him look.

Dean is almost finished with his sandwich when Sam knocks on the door, and Cas lets him in without even getting up.

“Thanks Cas, that’s so cool,” Sam says, staring at the door as it slides shut behind him by itself.

“Of course, did you sleep well?” Cas asks, moving from his seat across from Dean over to the bed, letting Sam sit down.

“Well after you two finished turning off the power in the entire motel, yeah,” Sam replies, taking a sip of his coffee he brought with him.

“The entire hotel?” Dean asks, food stuffed in his mouth and Sam scowls at him for chewing with his mouth open.

“Yeah, the owner was pretty pissed. When I went down there this morning, a couple of guys were trying to fix it. They think it was cause by the lightning from The Darkness, so I didn’t tell them otherwise,” Sam explains, lips twitching in amusement.

“I’ll fix it,” Cas says. He flaps his wings disappearing from the room and flies to the electrical box outside of the building, startling a few people who are mingling in the parking lot. With a touch on top of the box and a surge of energy all the lights in the parking lot and in all the windows of the rooms flick on. A lady stares at him from outside her car, jaw on the pavement and stuttering for words. He flashes her a slight smile and then disappears, reappearing right next to Dean.

“Jesus, Cas!” Dean yells, almost dropping his coffee. Sam dissolves into a fit of laughter across from him.

“I’m sorry, I’ve forgotten how to do this without startling you,” Cas apologizes, stepping a couple steps back away from Dean to sit down on the mattress.

Once Dean calms down from his short heart attack, he chuckles and smiles softly at Cas. “It’s okay, I’m glad you can fly again.”

“Me too.”

A sudden rush of yelling hits his brain and Cas squints his eyes together in pain.

_We have arrived Castiel, whenever you and the Winchesters are ready, we are ready._

“Cas, you okay?” Dean asks, noticing Cas’ pained expression and hand resting on his forehead.

“Yes, Hannah is here, and I think a tad overexcited. I’m still readjusting to angel radio.”

Sam and Dean both freeze up, glancing back and forth between each other and then look to Cas.

“They are here already?” Sam asks quietly.

Cas nods, “It’s almost time.”

Sam and Dean are scared, as they should be, this isn’t easy and they won’t be fighting how they normally do. Magic isn’t the best method for warfare, but Cas knows even if he tried to lock them away to keep them safe, they would find a way to get out and fight at his side.

After a night of silence, Cas’ grace finally speaks again, sending a calming warmth throughout his entire body.

_Do not worry Castiel, the battle might be rough and there will be causalities but you will come out of this victorious._

_Casualities?_

_There are always casualties of war._

Cas looks back and forth between Sam and Dean, hoping and praying that he isn’t leading them to their deaths. He doesn’t want that, they deserve happiness after the pain of their lives and he wants to give that to them. Sam rises from his seat first, grabbing his now empty coffee cup and tossing it into the wastebasket.

“I’m gonna go get ready, I’ll meet you guys out at the car.”

He leaves, quietly with tight, tense shoulders, mouth set into a thin line. Cas watches him go, shooting as many warm and positive thoughts as he can in his direction.

Dean finishes his sandwich and gulps down the rest of his coffee, silently moving around the room, getting all of his belongings stuffed back into his duffel bag.

“Dean,” Cas says softly.

“What?” Dean asks, padding to a stop in front of the mattress and Cas and smoothly zipping up his bag.

Cas stands, coming up behind Dean and wrapping his arms around his waist. “We’re going to be okay.”

Dean swallows thickly, slamming his eyes shut. “You don’t know that.”

“I don’t, but remember I made you a promise.”

Cas can hear Dean thinking back to their wonderful few days alone together and remembering.

“Right, the beach.”

“We’re going back there and we are going to rent a house on the shore and I’m going to make love to you at sunset,” Cas says, softly peppering kisses along Dean’s cheek.

Dean sucks in a breath and huffs it out, “Oh my god.”

Cas laughs, squeezing his arms around Dean’s waist. “Too much?”

“Just a little, that’s okay though, I wouldn’t mind.”

Dean turns in Cas’ arms, slipping his arms up and around Cas’ neck. His lips meet Cas’ in a passionate, wet kiss. Cas can feel all the love Dean has for him radiating in the kiss, the love he doesn’t say and the love he does. Their mouths part with a pop and Dean clasps his fingers together behind Cas’ head, resting his forehead against Cas’.

“You really think we’re going to be alright?”

Cas smiles, staring into the eyes of the man he’s loved for the past seven most important years of his existence. “After all this time, we have to be.”

~~~

They meet Sam in the parking lot. He looks like he’s ready for battle, placing an armful of spell supplies into the back of the Impala alongside his duffel bag.

“Hey,” He says, greeting them when they reach the car. His face is downfallen, shoulders tense and Cas can see right through the fake smile painted on his face. Cas crosses over to him, pulling a surprised Sam into a hug, he sends a burst of love and comfort out to Sam and sighs in relief when he relaxes into Cas’ arms, hugging back.

“Thanks, Cas,” Sam says, softly, pulling out of the hug and smiling genuinely at Cas, dimples showing.

“You’re welcome,” Cas replies, patting his shoulder.

Sam moves past him, getting into the car and waiting for Dean.

“Hannah will be waiting at the beach for us; I will meet you all there,” Cas says.

“You don’t want to ride with us?” Dean asks, climbing into the front seat He doesn’t look disappointed, just wary, like he is worried that if he lets Cas out of his sight, he’ll disappear forever. Cas, though he knows he shouldn’t, looks into Dean’s mind and sees flashes of memories of his life with Sam at his side. Dean’s heart flushes with warmth, protectiveness and a twinge of fear; he looks over at Sam gaze lingering on the side of his brother’s face. Cas takes a step back from the car.

“No, I need to make sure the angels understand our plan. It only takes thirty minutes to drive to the gap, don’t worry we won’t start without you.”

He smiles at the both of them; eyes staying on Dean and then vanishes, flying across the city and landing at the edge of Lake Michigan. As much as he would have loved to make the final trek to their potential deaths with the boys, he understands Dean’s need to have his final moments alone in his home with his brother. There are some places and some things Cas will never fit into in Dean’s life, and that’s more than okay with him.

When he arrives the surrounding sandy area is empty except for him, so as he always does, he waits, watching the sea as the waves routinely crash against the shore. They are choppy today, an omen of the impending storm and because he can, Cas roughens them up a bit, creating white caps off in the distance and enhancing the sound of the water hitting the sand. Wind ruffles his trench coat and his hair, sending it flying into a wild mess. A hand touches his shoulder, startling him out of his trance and he whips around to find Hannah and all the angels left in heaven standing behind them. Some look reluctant to be there, scrapping their feet in the sand, eyes downcast and doubtful, others look ecstatic, grinning faces and shining eyes, excited in the prospect of a fight and to save those they were created to defend. He’s thankful to see that there are more ecstatic faces than doubtful ones.

Hannah steps right in front of him, motioning behind them at all the angels. “I explained to them how we will attack – you send a burst of grace up first and we follow shortly after along with the Winchesters. Supposedly, The Darkness will try to fight back through mind control and try to turn us against each other, or it will fight simply, using it’s blackness to choke the life out of us, either way we are prepared for whatever happens.”

“Good. Thank you, Hannah for everything,” Cas says, reaching out and placing a hand on their shoulder, squeezing lightly, a message of solidarity and love.

“Of course, Castiel. Thank you for teaching me how to be a good leader.”

Cas thinks they are overemphasizing his efforts, after all much of the time, he’s been an awful leader, though Hannah seems to be doing fairly well so far. Hopefully the example he’s put forth in the past week or so has remedied all the negative ones of the past.

A motor roars in the distance and Cas sees the Impala pull into a spot in the parking lot and rumble until Dean shuts it off and steps out and Sam not far behind.

So, this is it.

Sam, having never seen the gap before in person is blinking up at the sun, blinded by its brightness having not seen it for over a month now. Dean tugs him along, weaving their way through the crowds of angels and coming to a stop in front of Cas and Hannah.

“Shit,” Sam breathes, clinging to Dean’s sleeve like a scared little child and gazing wide-eyed above him.

“I know, freaky huh? That’s why we’re going to kick its ass,” Dean says, grinning.

“Sam and Dean, it’s good to see you,” Hannah says, reaching out to politely shake their hands.

“You too,” Dean replies and Sam nods enthusiastically.

The silence following is deafening and everyone is waiting for Cas to make the first move, but he can’t. He’s frozen in place, in fear, not for his own life but for the lives of his friends and the entire human race. He can’t fuck this up, he can’t.

His grace flutters to life inside him, twirling through his veins and sending a peaceful feeling like a tranquil lake throughout his entire body.

_Fear not, Castiel. I will be with you every step of the way._

Cas takes a deep breath in releasing it in a heavy sigh and looks over at Hannah first.

“Get ready; I will join you in a minute.”

Hannah nods curtly, grinning and turning on their heel runs back over to the crowd of angels, frantically speaking to them. In one motion they all move into position, a whirring of grace spins in the air and they all wait, heads raised to the darkened heavens.

Cas hugs Sam first, clinging to the fabric of his shirt tightly with his fingertips and resting his head on the top of Sam’s shoulder.

“See you on the other side,” Sam whispers, patting Cas’ back twice and pulling back from him with slightly wet eyes.

Cas is too moved to speak, so he just nods, smiling softly at his friend. He turns to look over at Dean and every single emotional wall he’d built up for this moment, crumbles down the moment he looks into Dean’s eyes. He rushes forward, practically throwing himself into Dean’s arms and buries his face in the crook of Dean’s neck, fighting back tears. Dean’s arms close around him and he squeezes, tightly.

_Be strong, you can do this._

He lifts his head, taking a moment to memorize every inch of Dean’s face. He notes the freckles on his nose, the adorable dash of them on his forehead that trail down like constellations across his cheeks and the one on the corner of his mouth. That one is his favorite. He gazes into Dean’s green irises, losing himself in the softened light green and golden flecks. Dean smiles a little, just the hint of one but the split second allows Cas to see his laughter lines and graze his eyes over them. Leaning in he presses his lips to Dean’s, softly, just a tender caress filled with more meaning than he could ever manage to put into words.

“I love you,” Cas whispers, grabbing Dean’s hand and intertwining their fingers together.

The side of Dean’s mouth twitches up and he gives Cas’ hand a gentle squeeze. With a slow movement he leans forward, pressing his mouth against Cas’ forehead, lips barely ghosting his skin but enough to send a shiver down Cas’ spine.

“Love you,” Dean whispers back, “Let’s lock this motherfucker up.”

Dean squeezes his hand one last time and releases him, stepping backwards next to Sam, grinning ear to ear and waiting for orders. Cas takes a few breaths in and out, preparing himself and then steps to the water’s edge, the tips of his shoes dipping into the waves. With one last lingering glance at Sam and Dean, he turns toward the waves, and closes his eyes.

 _It’s time,_ he says to his grace.

_Finally._

A seed of energy starts building in his heart, growing and expanding until it fills him up like a balloon. He opens his eyes and watches as the Lake begins to part right in two, just like the Dead Sea, and his fingertips start to spark with electricity. Lifting his head to the clouds, he waits until the energy grows to almost unbearable levels of power and then, raising his palm to the gap, he surges out all the energy in one rush. It leaves him in a silver-white hissing stream, arching into the sky and hitting The Darkness right where he wants it to. Instantly a jet of black rushes towards him, angrily swirling down from the sky and he barely has time to get energy before it reaches him. With a sparkling burst of grace from his hand, he pushes back the stream and dissolves it in mid-air, falling as ash to his feet.

Behind him, Hannah cries out and every angel launches a similar smaller stream of grace into the sky. Sam and Dean start chanting in Latin and while he’s fighting, he notices streams of purple and blue smoke lift up into the air, wrapping around the falling black streams, choking them and obliterating them into piles of ash.

It’s almost as if The Darkness knows Cas is the most powerful of all the fighters, the being constantly singles him out, shooting down erratic streams of thick black smoke. He combats every single attack with a puff of grace. Ash clings to his hair and falls down into his eyelashes, and the entire expanse of the horizon is filled with dark black snow, highlighted by the appearing sun. If the cause wasn’t so horrifying, the scene would almost be beautiful.

Sam and Dean are holding their own despite fighting out of their element, Sam especially. Cas keeps seeing him sending multi-colored sparks up to the sky and bringing down large clouds of ashes with his attacks. Dean is right at his side, as always, and with their combined strength they are taking down as much of The Darkness as four angels. Hannah fights on the other side of the lake, using coordinated attacks of five angels at a time to do more damage than would be done if they were firing sporadically.

All around Cas his brethren are falling, The Darkness wrapping them up in its death grip and throwing their bodies back to earth and spreading burnt wing prints onto the ground. Every single death takes a little chunk out of Cas' heart. They willingly gave up their lives for him, to save humanity. He loves his fellow angels, and no matter what has to ensure that they win this.

Despite the many casualties, they are making good progress, The Darkness’ power is slowly dwindling and its presence above the Earth is diminishing gradually. It’s only the size of three football fields and the newly released sunlight is practically blinding. Cas is focused on destroying a large tube of darkness when he hears Dean scream in anguish. He whips around towards the sound, heart dropping into his stomach and finds Dean among the crowd of angels running as fast as he can towards Sam, shooting purple sparks at the Darkness. He doesn’t make it in time, neither does Cas, the wispy stream of black, wrapping around Sam’s body and with one twist, choking the life out of him and dropping him like a limp rag doll to the ground.

“Sam!” Dean yells, falling to his brother’s side, hands grasping at Sam’s cheeks and his hair.

“C’mon Sam, c’mon, you can’t be fucking dead, not like this. Wake up, fucking wake up, you’re not dead, you can’t be!”

Cas watches in horror, heart breaking as Dean falls on top of Sam’s corpse, wrapping his arms around his brother’s dead body and just lying there, body shaking with sobs. He starts to run towards them, grace ready to bring Sam back already at his fingertips.

_The Darkness killed someone you love, finish this Castiel._

Castiel turns back around to face the remaining cloud, anger scorching through his veins. He lets it fill him, amplifying his power. With a scream, he shoots every ounce of grace and power inside him at the sky. The white light and blackness tumble, twisting around each other until the whiteness prevails, quenching out The Darkness once and for all. The remnants of the powerful evil fall in an ebony shower to Cas’ feet, coating every inch of the white sandy beach and sparkling in the bright sun.

The angels behind him cheer at the victory, a melodious singing of praises but Castiel barely hears them. His ears are ringing and in a flash of movement he scoops up all the ashes from The Darkness into an electric ball.

 _Separate my grace from God’s_ , he orders.

The grace does so and like two atoms splitting, they explode in his chest and his grace shoots out of the top of his head in a light blue stream, hovering around his head like a halo. He wraps his grace around The Darkness like a blanket, fashioning a lock out of a few tendrils of grace and throws it into the pits of hell.

“The Darkness shall only be released by the original owner of the grace which binds it,” Castiel says, smiling in satisfaction knowing he will never need his grace ever again.

The angels lift up their voices in another song, praising him and praising the victory. Castiel finds Dean; arms still tangled around Sam, unwilling to let any of the angels hovering around him touch his brother.

“Dean,” Cas says softly, reaching out and placing a hand on his shoulder. “Let me help.”

Dean looks up at him through bleary, pleading eyes, slowly releasing his brother’s body and moving out of the way. Cas kneels beside Sam, tenderly cupping his cheek and letting the healing grace flow through him until Sam’s face lights up with a blue hue and he sucks in a deep breath of air, eyes flying open. Sam clutches at Cas’ coat, erratically blinking his eyes and gasping like he just came out of extremely cold water.

“Cas,” Sam coughs, regaining usage of his lungs, hazel eyes staring in wonder at Cas. “Thank you.”

“Sammy,” Dean breathes next to Cas. He grabs at Sam’s arms, eyes raking over every inch of his body, making sure that he is in one piece, and actually alive. Sam releases Cas’ coat and clings to Dean’s shoulders; Cas moves over to the side a little to let them have their space. Sam falls into Dean’s arms, body still weak, and Dean hugs him, tight and teary-eyed. He locks eyes with Cas over Sam’s shoulder and mouths, “Thank you.”

Cas nods, rising to his feet and walking over to Hannah. He motions at the angels to give Sam and Dean their space while Sam recovers from death and Dean recovers from his short lapse of heartbreak. His grace flutters happily in his chest, overjoyed at their victory, despite the casualties.

 _You did wonderful_ , his grace says, shooting happiness like tiny explosions in his chest.

_Thank you._

He looks back over at Sam and Dean. Dean is helping Sam to his feet now; Sam is still shaky, holding onto Dean’s arms and standing on wobbly legs. He slings an arm around Dean’s shoulder and Dean bends under Sam’s weight, walking him back across the sand over to the car. Dean is grinning and shoots one of his special smiles at Cas, happy, thankful and set on taking care of his little brother before any of his other thoughts, some not so holy, are focused on. Sam smiles at him too, a little pained but it’s filled with love and Cas’ heart expands at the sight.

_They both really do love you._

Cas smiles, _I know._

When he reaches Hannah, they grin at him, happiness evident in every part of their face. “We did it!” They yell, pulling Castiel into a hug and lifting him completely off the ground, spinning him around in the circle. Putting a very startled Castiel back down on the ground, Hannah claps his shoulder, grin expanding with a radiance that rivals that of a sun.

“Thank you for all your help,” Cas says.

Hannah nods, mock bowing at him, “Of course, it was my pleasure.”

Cas laughs raising his eyes to the sky, bright blue like it is supposed to be.

Hannah matches his gaze, and nudges at his shoulder. “What are you going to do now?”

He shrugs, dropping his eyes and shifting them back to Dean and Sam where they are leaning up against the Impala. “Go home.”

“What about the grace?” Hannah asks, eyebrows twisting in curiosity.

“I was wondering if you could help me with that, actually,” Cas states.

“I don’t understand.”

“God’s grace is interchangeable; it can be passed down so to speak to another being who is worthy of the job. All you have to do is slice my neck open with Death’s Scythe, and summon the grace into you.”

“It’s that easy?”

“Yes.”

After a brief pause, Hannah turns to him, eyes tilting downward in worry. “Are you sure that you want to be human? There’s no going back this time, your grace is gone.”

Castiel catches Dean’s eyes from across the beach. He’s smiling and looking quite at home leaning back against his car with a comforting arm around Sam. The Impala glints in the sunshine behind them, the only home the Winchesters have ever truly called home. If Cas has learned anything from humanity it’s that sometimes, home isn’t a place or a thing, it’s a person.

He’s spent long enough as an angel and serving heaven’s orders, he has a family now, and it’s time for him to go home.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my entire existence.”

Hannah finds the focus of his gaze, smiles softly and nods in understanding. “Where is the scythe?”

“In the Impala,” Cas answers, already starting to make his way across the beach towards Dean and Sam. Part of him is worried that when Hannah takes his grace, his life will also end just like God’s did when Cas took his grace.

But the chance of having a human life with Dean is worth it.

When they reach the Impala, Dean moves off the car and pulls Cas into a kiss, tangling his fingers in the hairs at the nape of Cas’ neck. “You ready?” He asks.

“I have something I have to do first,” Cas says, regretfully pulling away and solemnly opening the trunk of the Impala.

He grabs Death’s scythe and hands it to Hannah. Dean catches the serious look on both of their faces and grabs Cas’ arm as he takes a step closer to Hannah. “What the hell are you doing?”

“My grace locked up The Darkness and I don’t want to be God, I want to be human and I want to be with you.”

“You could die!” Dean protests, hand tightening around Cas’ arm, desperate to stop him.

“That’s a chance I’m willing to take,” Cas replies, stepping out of Dean’s grasp and nodding at Hannah.

“Cas, please,” Dean begs, eyes wide and afraid; he’s scared to death.

He doesn’t have to do this; he could live a life with Dean and still be God. But he would still have to rule; still have to return to heaven periodically to make sure everything is running smoothly. He misses being human, he misses tasting things, feeling emotion so intensely that it nearly brings him to his knees. He misses the fragility and the necessity to make every moment count. The worst part, the part he wouldn’t be able to handle would be watching Dean die, and having to continue on.

The last thing his grace asks him before Hannah slices the scythe into his neck is, What is your purpose Castiel?

He waits to the world to go dark, for his soul to lift up to heaven, but nothing happens and all he feels is a throbbing pain and warm blood sliding down his neck where Hannah sliced him open. After having such a prominent presence within his body, Cas feels strange, finite and small; it’s amazing. He watches God’s grace swirl around Hannah and then without any prompting, slide right in through the part in their lips. Their eyes flash blue and earthquake rocks the ground underneath their feet causing a large wave to crash onto the shore, coming all the way up to the edge of the parking lot. When the light fades and Hannah adjusts to their new form, they step forward, placing a palm on Cas’ forehead, instantly healing the cut and any mortal wounds he might have had from his last time as a human.

“I didn’t die,” Cas breathes, astonished. He stares down at his human hands and grins at Dean.

“The grace says you haven’t served your purpose and that if you think about it, you’ll figure out what it is.”

Cas doesn’t have to think very hard, all he has to do is meet Dean’s eyes and feel his pulse increase. He knows what his purpose is, he’s always known.

“I think I should get the angels back to heaven and figure out what my new duties are,” Hannah says with a small smile, glancing back and forth between Dean and Cas who haven’t broken eye contact since Cas’ change back into a human. A million thoughts are racing through his head, mostly how Cas is worried this isn’t real, that he’s actually dead and all these good things happening to him are figments of his imagination. After all he, Dean and Sam have gone through, all the people lost, all the pain, they finally get to be happy. There’s still lingering pain though, especially in Dean whose guilt for the death of his loved ones will never truly go away. But Cas still has the power of God in his reach and sometimes, miracles do happen.

“Can you do something for me when you return?” He asks.

“Of course Castiel,” Hannah says.

Cas grins mischievously, leaning in and whispering in Hannah’s ear. When they pull apart, Hannah is nodding, and grinning from ear to ear at Dean and Sam.

“Thank you for being such a kind and loyal friend,” Hannah says, clasping his hand within theirs, preparing to make their ascent into heaven.

“Come and visit me,” Cas says, “You are God now; you can do whatever you want.”

“I know I shall. Goodbye Castiel,” Hannah replies, smiling softly. Cas knows that they will come visit him soon too, as soon as they figure out how to run heaven as God and not just an angel.

“Goodbye Hannah.”

With a flash of blue light Hannah and all the angels disappear, leaving the beach deserted and the parking lot entirely empty except for Sam, Dean and Cas. They stand, gazes lingering on the shore and the waves rolling blue and rocky against the sand, until silently, they all climb into the Impala.

“Where to Cas?” Dean asks, once Cas is settled in the back seat and the motor rumbles comfortingly beneath them.

“I think it’s time you two got to see the ocean,” Cas says. Sam looks over his shoulder, eyebrows scrunched together in confusion, but Dean understands, slamming his foot on the gas and heading east towards the rising sun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Latin translations in order of appearance:  
> "My God, I have returned."  
> "Let the grace of God live on through me, the holy servant of the Lord."  
> "I am the Alpha and the Omega, the First and the Last, the Beginning and the End."


	6. Epilogue

New Jersey in the fall is beautiful, ripe with colorful falling leaves that turn the area into a golden world, accentuated by the rays of the sun. It isn’t ideal for spontaneous beach trips; the weather mild, in the mid-seventies nearly constantly, but not warm enough for shirtless men and swim trunks. Sam suggested that they head south and go to Florida or something, but Dean and Cas were resilient in their destination. When they explained to Sam why exactly they had to go to New Jersey specifically he just rolled his eyes at them, and called them both saps.

Now as the three of them lounge on towels underneath partly cloudy skies, cool beers in their hands, no one complains about the slight chilly breeze or the fact that they all have gratuitous sunburns across their chests. If they are going to go to the beach, they are going to do it right.

Cas having never been to the beach as a human is thoroughly enjoying the gritty feel of sand beneath his feet when he runs across the sand. He falls in love with the way the waves rock into his body as he wades through the water up to his chest, and the chill each ice cold splash of water sends trickling down his spine. Most of all he loves the salty kisses Dean gives him, standing in the middle of the surf, hands sliding along wet skin, tasting him until he finds the sweetness that lingers in Dean’s mouth. It never lasts very long though, Sam always comes up behind them, splashing water on them, causing Dean to chase after his brother, pushing him down into the shallower part of the water and wrestling until one or both of them call “Uncle.”

As the sun begins to make its descent, Sam takes a break from rough housing his brother and walks to the edge of the waves.  Cas is watching Sam from further back on the sand when Dean comes up behind Cas wrapping his arms around his waist and resting his head on Cas’ shoulder.

“How does humanity feel?” He asks, mouth brushing against the shell of Cas’ ear.

Cas leans into him, covering Dean’s hands with his own, smiling at Sam’s silhouette in the golden rays and the warmth of Dean’s fingers pressed against his skin.

“Happy.”

Dean nuzzles into the side of his neck, lips pressing soft kisses there, hands sliding up Cas’ chest, “Me too.”

Like something out of a movie, footsteps pad, running in the soft sand and stop directly beside them. Cas sees a flash of short red hair and an amused smirk out of the corner of his eye.

“Wow, Hannah was right, you two are really gross,” Charlie says with a snort.

Dean freezes, hands leaving Cas’ body completely and spins around towards his long lost little sister. “Charlie?!”

She grins at him, “Damn right. Back from the dead and feeling better than ever!”

Dean just stares at her in shock. He turns to look at Cas, mouth flapping open and closed like a fish out of water. “How the fuck - did you do this?!”

“No, but I have my connections,” Cas replies with a smirk.

“Holy shit!” Dean yells, finally catching up with the fact that, Charlie is _alive_ , Charlie is okay and here, and he runs to her, pulling her into a crushing hug and spinning her around until she starts yelling at him to put her down because she’s getting dizzy.

“Sam!” Dean yells, trying to get his brother’s attention. Sam is still at the edge of the water, enthusiastically talking to a much smaller short-haired man that looks vaguely like –

“KEVIN?!”

Kevin turns around jumping up and down and waving at Dean, who can do little more than wave and hold back tears. Sam and Kevin join the three of them further up on the sand and Dean practically tackles Kevin when he sees him. Sam hugs Charlie so tightly and for so long it’s like he thinks she’s going to disappear right in front of his eyes.

Standing side by side, arms wrapped around each other, feet buried in the soft sand, they watch the sun crest the top of the sea and then dip beneath it, exploding the horizon into a watercolor of golden oranges and ruby reds. Dean wraps his arm tighter around Cas’ waist, pulling him against his side and presses a lingering kiss to his cheek.

“Thank you,” Dean whispers against his skin.

Cas looks around at his small found family with pride. For his entire existence, before he descended to Earth and saved Dean, he’d always felt like an outcast among the angels. He cared too much, had an unhealthy attachment to humanity and had a moral compass that didn’t always fit with the plans God supposedly had for the world. He never knew what it meant to love or to be loved until he met Dean and his family. At first it was rough, he wasn’t human, he didn’t fit in, but he longed to and he tried so hard to prove himself to the Winchesters at whatever the cost. Eventually they welcomed him in with eager arms, wrapping him in their sacrificial and unconditional love,  and showing him for the first time what it truly meant to have a family, what it truly means to have a home.

He meets Dean’s eyes, the green in them sparkling with thousands of golden flecks in the setting sun, and kisses one of the tiny freckles on his jawline.

“No, thank _you.”_


End file.
